


Quite Possibly the Worst Roommate Ever

by plasticlizard022



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angry Sex, Angst, Assuming (Makes an ASS out of U and ME), Barebacking, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Jealousy, Miscommunication, Reader is Kind of a Bitch, Refusal to Admit They're in Love, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Smut, Swearing, mild violence, oral sex (male receiving)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 39,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23474122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticlizard022/pseuds/plasticlizard022
Summary: You're a superhero with fire abilities and you've been with the Avengers for awhile now. You fit in pretty well and get along with everyone with the exception of the newest Avenger - a certain ex-Winter Soldier. No one quite got on your nerves like James Buchanan Barnes and you make sure to let him know that (and you can't help but make his life just as uncomfortable and difficult in return). To make matters worse, his room is right next to yours! Could things get any worse!?Turns out they can! You are constantly paired with the Winter Soldier on missions. Can you ever look past your differences and just get along?!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 38
Kudos: 142





	1. New Roommate

You threw your hair up into a ponytail and really gave the idea of cutting your hair shut more consideration. Waking up early wasn't quite your thing but you liked being in the gym alone so you usually claimed it late at night when everyone else was normally asleep. You had grown considerably more comfortable with your powers over the years but that didn't mean you were willing to risk any accidents. Tony had done a good job fireproofing most of the gym in the Avenger's Compound after you had set fire to more than one punching bag (and perhaps a boxing ring. . .) over the course of the past year. Sometimes, when you got really worked up, you would just sort of burst into flames. And now that everything was fireproofed, you could really practice different moves and abilities. You just had to make sure no one was around to accidentally light on fire.

Tiny blue flames danced along your knuckles as you beat the Kevlar bag in front of you. Parties were supposed to be fun. . . right? Well, the party earlier had not been fun for you. Even Sam had told you that you were blowing things out of proportion and he didn't like Bucky either. 

Ugh - Bucky Barnes. If he hadn't been Steve's friend from the World War then you know that he wouldn't be part of the team today. What were the odds?! You shook your head and beat at the bag more. Left, right, left, right, right, right, right, right. "Maybe use both hands if you want to actually train," a toneless voice caused you to halt. Without looking you knew that the only person dumb enough to interrupt you at the moment would be none other than Bucky himself. 

You spun around on your heels and plastered a clearly fake smile onto your noticeably irritated face. "You're new so you don't quite know the rules here yet, but I get the gym to myself every night from midnight until whenever I want to leave," you said with a condescending and sarcastic sweetness that you hoped pissed him off enough to leave. Yet he remained in place leaning in the doorway. You smiled even harder, your cheeks pressing up into your field of vision. "So leave." 

"Well, this is when I workout," Bucky said plainly. He moved into the gym which caused your blood to boil - almost literally. The little blue flames that had been dancing across your knuckles burst into a bright light that engulfed your hands. You clenched your hands into fists and winced. You had always had an issue controlling your power when you lost your temper; it had been causing you trouble for years now and even the calming methods that Bruce used to keep from becoming the Hulk didn't work on you and your stubbornness. You slipped your hands behind your back because, not only were you always embarrassed by how little control you still seemed to have but, you didn't want to seem like a real threat to Bucky. As much as you despised everything about him, you weren't about to start a battle. Steve would never forgive you if you did that. 

Had you been just a tad more cartoonish, then steam would've come out of your ears and nostrils. Instead, just an angry huff passed through your lips. "I was here first. If you decide to stay, I will roast you alive," you both warned and threatened him. You didn't hold back during your training and you weren't about to start for this man. "You can find another time. Come tomorrow with St-" You stopped halfway through when you realized you didn't want him coming in here with Steve. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes. It was abundantly clear that you didn't like him nor did you trust him. "With Steve? Sure, I'll come with Steve," he agreed. He would've been more reluctant but for some reason you didn't want him coming with Steve and so he would do it just to get under your skin. 

The flames on your glowing fists crackled up to your elbows and your whole body shivered, tempted to alight. "Fine." You had only begun to say it so that he would leave you alone now. And while it worked, you also realized that now he would be spending more time with Steve. It was already bad enough that you had to share Steve with Sam and Natasha. You didn't want to have to share him even more and with a person you couldn't even stand. Steve cared for you in a way that no one else ever had and you had a very hard time sharing that attention and affection. 

"Completely unbearable," you hissed as he left the room. The flames had traveled up to your shoulders by this time. You were obviously already worked up but knowing that that man made you lose control and so easily just infuriated you. Left, right, left, right, right, right, right. Your arm ached as the final swing knocked the bag off the wall and to the floor. You collapsed beside it and caught your breath. You closed your eyes and counted to four as you breathed in and then to eight as you breathed out. Natasha had taught you the breathing exercise that usually helped cool you off - literally and figuratively. The flames extinguished themselves and you pinched the bridge of your nose. This night just couldn't get worse. 

You slunk to your room and into an icy bath. You hated cold baths - they were uncomfortable and frigid and nearly unbearable. But after working out it was the best thing for your muscles and your nerves. You slipped into your pajamas and then under your sheets. You looked at the digital clock beside your bed and watched the numbers flash to 1:58. With a sigh you rolled over and managed to find a few hours of sleep.

With a groan you rolled back over to check the time. 6:27. You knew it was Steve banging on your door and you hated disappointing him but you just wanted to cover your head with a pillow and get the other three and a half hours needed to get a full night's rest. Begrudgingly, you tossed your blanket aside and it slipped to the floor as you scuffled over to the door. 

Steve wore the same apologetic smile he wore every morning. If he really felt so guilty about waking you up for training then he wouldn't do it, right? He held out a mug of coffee and a crooked smile crept onto your lips. He was always so thoughtful. "I know you had a rough night but if you're up for it, we still have some drills to run with the team this morning." 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and nodded slowly. It took a moment to process everything but when it clicked you sighed and sipped your coffee. "Give me fifteen." You shut the door to change and get ready. Steve, with the occasional help from Natasha, was helping you, Wanda, and Sam stay fit and practice physical combat without the use of powers. The three of you were good at holding your own but practice made perfect and you knew that you couldn't always rely on fire to get you out of a situation. 

You were the last one in the gym but that was usually normal. Sometimes Wanda would wander in after you but that usually only happened on the nights were you didn't go to bed so you were already awake when the training began. You had become well acquainted with insomnia after witnessing so much carnage as an Avenger. It was something you sometimes battled with alcohol and battled alone and in private. 

"What the hell is he doing here?" You asked with a frown. Everyone turned to face you; you were barely inside the door and had your arms crossed defensively across your chest. Your foot tapped an annoyed rhythm against the thinly carpeted floor. Steve had just admitted that he knew last night was rough (and because of Bucky) so why was he invited to their little training group? 

Steve answered as diplomatically as he could. "He asked if he could join us. He needs training with his arm." He said with a tone that said 'he needs to learn to control himself as much as you do' and that got right under your skin. 

Sam gently clapped you on the back as you reluctantly moved into the room. You kept a weary eye on the Winter Soldier who purposely ignored you just to get you riled up. "Come on, (Y/N). It's a new day," he said to try and get you to cheer up just a little. He still didn't know why you freaked out so much last night. You just rolled your eyes and told Steve to get on with the training already. 

It really wasn't a big deal but you had never handled embarrassment well. And there was that aforementioned temper. You already didn't trust the guy - he was ex-Hydra (supposedly) and he had killed a lot of people including the SHIELD agent you had just gotten into a relationship with for a hot minute. While you knew that it hadn't technically been him killing people and that he had been brainwashed and controlled, it wasn't so easy to move past that. Besides, he just had this attitude and air about him; you just knew that the two of you wouldn't vibe. 

So in comes this man you don't trust nor can you stand, and he isn't even grateful for the party that you and Wanda threw together for him last minute to welcome him to the team. You didn't really care to celebrate the occasion but you did like booze and there was plenty of that at the party. You had been in charge of the refreshments which was all that mattered to you. 

The ungrateful bastard decides that not only is he going to stand around silently and awkwardly during his own party but he was going to spill alcohol all over you. You're basically a walking match and the embarrassment of having booze all over you caused little flames to dance across your body. The booze quickly caught on fire. To fix his mistake, Bucky put you out with a fire extinguisher. It had been humiliating; everyone laughed!

Steve made sure you were okay which of course you were - physically. In your heart, you just knew that Bucky had poured his drink on you on purpose! Steve assured you that that wasn't true and you told him he was being bias and nonobjective since Bucky was his friend. So Sam was the one to finish walking you to your room to make sure you were okay. That's when he told you that, sure it was a little embarrassing, but it was just a silly accident that had happened. No one was laughing AT you! But you were sure it wasn't an accident and that Bucky was out to get you! Sam told you that you were paranoid which was the last thing you wanted to hear when you were upset. Sam dropped you off at your door and you stayed in there mourning the destruction of your favorite dress and agonizing over the fact that Bucky Barnes was a permanent resident here now. 

"Now we can't even pair off evenly," you said under your breath as you got prepared to spar with your friends (and your one enemy). You usually sparred with Steve so that you didn't accidentally burn Sam or Wanda. You didn't want to burn anyone but Steve would rather it be him than anyone else. You had gotten really good at keeping it under control during combat, though. 

"That's alright," Steve said and you winced when you realized he had heard you. "I can observe." You hated when he said that because you didn't like fighting Sam or Wanda. "You can spar with Bucky." Everyone's head snapped to you to gauge your reaction but your gaze was on Bucky. It was hard to read his expression. Was it pleasure - now he had permission to destroy you? Was it annoyance - because he couldn't stand you either? It looked more like indifference which drove you the craziest. He so often looked past you like weren't even there and you had a loud presence that demanded attention. 

Wanda stepped in with her hands slightly raised ready to mediate. "Steve, I can sp-"

"No," you interrupted. "I'll spar with him." You rolled up your sleeves and moved away from the others. Sam moved over beside Steve. Neither he nor Wanda could focus on their own training when a storm like this was forming right in front of their eyes. You bounced gently on the balls of your feet and held your fists up closer to your face. "Come on. Or are you afraid now that you're not the Winter Soldier." Bucky glanced over at Steve with a look that read 'why did you do this to me?' Finally, some emotion from this impenetrable wall of a man.

Steve was ready to step in but he was hoping that one quick match would allow you let your steam out so that you could drop whatever grudge you held against his best friend. Whenever you got worked up over something, a little bit of wrestling usually helped clear things up. You didn't think it would work this time. You just wanted to beat the ever-loving shit out of this man. Maybe he would leave and get out of your hair. 

It turns out that he had some amazing muscle memory and retained all of his fighting abilities even when he wasn't under the influence of Hydra. He blocked your blows effortlessly which frustrated you even more - it made you feel like all of this training had gone to waste. Had Steve been pulling his punches all of this time or was he right when he told you that you relied too heavily on your fire. "Going easy on me? Kind of pathetic," you huffed angrily once you noticed that Bucky was only acting defensively and not offensively. "I fight Steve and he's been a super soldier longer than you. Come on, comrade, give it your best shot." 

You could sense apprehension. Was he afraid to fight you? Was it because you were a girl or was it something else? But you got under his skin more than you originally thought. "You talk way too much," he growled. He moved in and used his right arm to grab you and flip you onto your back. You grunted and smirked. Now that he was being properly rough with you, you could echo his aggression. You swept his feet out from underneath him. 

He grimaced and met your eyes. Game on. After only thirty more seconds of sparring, Steve was ready to step in. Maybe his little plan to get the two of you to get along wasn't as good as he had thought it would be. "Back off, Rogers," you growled. The two of you had gotten back to your feet and didn't hold back with each and every blow. With each hit you took and every swing you missed, you filled more and more with rage. Your tongue brushed across your lower lip, felt the warm lump in the corner, and tasted the metallic blood. 

Your arms burst into flames. "(Y/N)! He's not worth it, come on!" Sam yelled out. He cared little for Bucky but he wasn't ready to see a man be flambeed before his eyes. It was white noise drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears. Bucky had to be careful blocking each blow since he didn't want his skin to be burned and he hadn't warn clothes thick enough to prevent catching fire. Each time you made contact, it was with his metallic arm. 

Most people can easily state that they have never been in a fight against a person that was on fire - even the Winter Solider. He was a very excellent fighter but was thrown off when he had to start defending himself against flames. His metal arm grabbed your right arm at the elbow and he prepared to kick you down but you took your shot. You shook out your left arm so that the flames dispersed and you got a nice solid hit to his nose; you felt the cartilage shift under your knuckles. He let go of your arm and you stumbled backwards. 

You gently touched your lip with your fingers and looked at the red hue on your fingertips. It was tender but you use the backside of your hand to wipe the blood from your mouth. You looked at Bucky who was adjusting his nose with his forefinger and thumb. Blood flowed out of his nostril and down to his lips. You smirked proudly. "I think I'm calling it a day early," you told your three friends who really didn't know how to react other than check on the two minor injuries you had both sustained. "That felt good." Steve had gotten what he wanted - you had found your cathartic release. Unfortunately, your feud with the Winter Soldier was only beginning. 

After a quick trip to the kitchen for a fresh cup of coffee you moved back to your room to shower and change out of your sweaty clothes. You stood in front of your door with your hand on the handle when you watched Bucky silently walk past you with a bandage on his nose. You remained silent and offered no apology but watched him as he passed because you were afraid he might strike you in private as retribution. Instead he moved to the door beside your own and pushed it open. 

"Of course," you growled under your breath and moved into your room. What other room would he be given if not the one adjacent to yours?


	2. Who Put You in Charge? Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whose bright idea was it to pair you off with Bucky Barnes to do a recon mission?! This certainly won't go well.

You were painting your toenails on the couch in the living room. You had music quietly playing from your phone on the cushion beside you and you hummed along just as softly. Your hair was up in a towel from your shower and your coconut shampoo shrouded you in a welcoming, tropical scent - your pheromones, you would joke. 

It had been well over a month since the newest Avenger had joined the team. You were no longer trying to actively char him. The two of you had made a silent, mutual agreement to just avoid each other as much as possible. That's why Bucky received the deadest stink eye you could manage as walked into the room and sat on the far end of the couch. He was lucky it was a giant sectional or he would've gotten a kick to the jaw. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" You asked, skipping the formality of forced, sarcastic politeness and going straight for hostile.

Bucky scratched his jaw uncomfortably. He certainly wasn't afraid of you so what had him in a bind? "Steve thought you should hear it from him but you already hate me so I figured I'd deliver the news. . ." He trailed off and kept his gaze on you. He wasn't quite sure if you'd erupt into flames or not, especially after he actually delivered the bad news. "There's a recon mission in Italy. They're sending the two of us."

You tensed and dropped the nail polish on the floor. You cursed loudly and used some tissues to mop up as much as you could. "Tony's going to have a fit," you huffed under your breath. You sat there on the ground with your pile of nail polish covered tissues and looked up at Bucky. "Why? Who okayed this?" 

Whoever thought this was a good idea was about to get an earful. You would go with literally anyone else but not him. This was a sick joke! "Steve said orders came from Nick Fury. You can speak Italian, right?" You furrowed your eyebrows together and connected the dots. You tried to forget and move past your shady and criminal history but yes, you had learned Italian when you were younger. "They would've paired one us with Natasha but she's still in Moscow." 

You ran your tongue over the front of your teeth and clenched your jaw. It made enough sense but that didn't mean you were going to be happy about it. "I have to find Steve," you growled. He was still going to get an earful. You tossed your towel on the couch and let your hair finish air-drying as you stormed across the compound to give Steve a piece of your mind. 

"It's sick and cruel, I hope you know," you informed him. He tried defending himself by saying that he offered to go in Bucky's stead but this mission was all about obtaining information and he didn't know any Italian. They needed to send two people who could actually get what they were looking for and, unfortunately, that meant the two of you. You were very displeased. "Just give me the briefing," you sighed. Steve really thought it would make more sense for Bucky to be in here so that the two of you could get the information together but he could tell that too many of your buttons had already been pressed so he didn't push his luck. 

You and Bucky were going to pose as tourists in a remote town in Italy. Supposedly there was a secret Hydra base operating somewhere in the area. Your mission was to locate the base and figure out what kind of dastardly deeds were taking place inside. You'd come report back home and then a larger crew would act as the strike force and wipe the base out. You were to leave that night so you went to pack your bag. 

Not that you were excited about going with Bucky, but you were excited to go to Italy and to dress like a tourist. You had some beautiful skirts and outfits you hardly ever got to wear out and now was the opportune moment. You were going to try and keep your distance and make the most of this mission.

The flight to Italy was awkward and quiet. You managed to swallow your pride long enough to go over different aspects of the mission with your partner (oh, even thinking about him being your partner made your skin hot and your stomach knot!). "The one thing I don't understand is why you're even allowed to come. Aren't you a liability?" Yours were coarse and cold but you spoke them with surprising restraint which was at least something. You had to know, though, if any Hydra member would recognize him. 

"I usually wore a mask and worked with a select group of operatives, most of whom are dead now," Bucky answered callously. He was really getting tired of your constant unwarranted attitude. He was just trying to get through this mission the same as you. "I need to be here because I'm more likely to identify a Hydra operative than you are." He made a fair point. It was basically like having a double-agent only he wasn't working for Hydra anymore. 

Bucky cleared his throat. "If they're operating out of a small base as we expect, they're going to be good at what they do," he explained slowly building up to what you knew was going to be more bad news. "We're more likely to be spotted if we act separately..."

"No." You knew exactly what he was implying and your gut had been correct - bad news! "That was not the plan and not what we agreed to. I'm posing as a college student on a holiday and you're going to be. . . whatever! We are not posing as a couple."

Bucky clenched his jaw. "They'll spot us if we make any sort of action together. If this base is what I think it is, then we have to be smarter and more careful. They're far less likely to be suspicious of a couple on their honeymoon." You slouched in your seat, childishly pouting as you stared out the plane window as it began its descent. 

'I don't know why you think you're in charge here but this will be the last decision you make for the rest of the trip," you growled angrily and began to gather your things. He was new here and though he had experience from his Hydra days, you still had the most experience as an Avenger. You saw yourself as the defacto leader of this little spy mission. Bucky had a proud look on his face that you wanted to smack off. He was just glad that you had agreed albeit it very reluctantly. 

"Don't get any bright ideas. We can sit together in public and that's where I draw the line," you assured him before stepping of the plane. 

"Yes ma'am," he uttered sarcastically and under his breath.


	3. Who Put You in Charge? Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that you're stuck with Bucky on a recon mission in Italy, will you actually be able to get through the trip without killing each other or giving up your cover?
> 
> After being forced to spend this time together you realize that maybe the two of you have more in common than you originally thought.

You moved into the hotel you'd be staying in for the next couple of days and spoke to the receptionist in fluent but accented Italian. You explained, with hidden reluctance, that you'd need a room for you and your new husband. The one nice thing about this crappy arrangement was that you had left him to carry all of your luggage up to the room. You took your room-key with a smile and met Bucky outside of your room. You silently opened the door and moved inside. 

It was clean and elegant though small. In fact, the only bad thing about the room was how small it was. "Where's the couch?" you asked with a frown. The room wasn't large enough to host a queen-sized bed, dresser, and couch. So there was just the bed and dresser. Bucky bumped you out of the way (it was just one more thing to add to your list of reasons of why he was the worst man on the earth) and dropped the luggage on the bed and began to unpack the bits of equipment you would need. "Are you not concerned that there's not a couch?" 

"No," he answered dismissively. He dropped his bag in the dresser without pulling out the clothes. He had pulled out the ear pieces that the two of you needed. He shoved your suitcase in the closet and shut the door. He didn't believe in fully unpacking because you never knew when you would need to leave in a hurry. 

You huffed and crossed your arms. "We have to share the bed then," you pointed out since he just didn't seem to get it. He looked around the room to really confirm there wasn't a bed. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. You really were the biggest pain in the ass. 

"We'll cross that bridge later. We're here to work," he said and shoved your earpiece into your fist so you could put it in. The two of you would likely be near each other most of the trip but in case you got separated then he wanted to be able to reach you inconspicuously. It wasn't the sharing the bed with a colleague that annoyed him, it was just very unfortunate it would be with you. Maybe he would just sleep on the floor. 

You slipped the piece into your ear and popped a sunhat on your head to complete your tourist look. You were already in sandals and a sundress. "Are you seriously going out looking like that? Glad to know that I fake married a slob," you exhaled and stepped out of the room. He locked the door behind you as you left and you banged only once. You had to maintain the appearance of happy newlyweds so you couldn't quite bring attention to yourself right off the bat by breaking a door down. 

Instead, you stood impatiently in front of the door and tapped your foot. Your arms were crossed so tightly that your fingertips almost went numb. After the longest fifteen minutes of your life, the lock clicked and the door opened. Bucky was surprised to see you there waiting because he had been prepared to track you down in town. You took him in and were taken aback. 

Oh. Oh wow.

He cleaned up nice. He hadn't had time to shave so there was that classic stubble and his hair was still long but it was brushed and put into a bun to keep it out of his face. You got to really see those glowing blue eyes for the first time. He work khakis and loafers and a tastefully colored button-up that he kept untucked. Once he slipped on his sunglasses, he really looked like a tourist. He was damn near unrecognizable. It was just a nice change of pace to see him out of those plain henleys, worn-down jackets, and black pants. He looked. . . like a person and not some raggedy thing that rolled out of bed. 

Draped over his arm was a navy blazer. His shirt was rolled down to hide his metal arm and he had on leather gloves to try and hide it a tad more. Something stirred inside of you and that alone nearly made you barf. EW! You weren't possibly attracted to this man even in the slightest! Ew! "So I'm guessing Tony dressed you?" you managed as you extinguished that flame inside of you. It was the bad kind of flame - the kind between your legs and in your gut that you had even less control over!

Bucky took in your outfit. The two of you did look like a pair. He began to walk down the hall and you moved beside him. You held onto the straps of your little purse tight enough that your knuckles turned white. You really had to shake this off. "I can dress myself," he said. He knew how to blend in. He wasn't used to blending in this way, but you were "vacationing" in a very affluent town. 

"Well, you had me fooled," you uttered under your breath. He barely glanced your way so that you knew he could hear you. You just smirked because you felt back in control now. "You really should get a haircut." The two of you stepped into the elevator and went out to walk the town. 

The two of you had only walked two blocks when he took your hand. He felt you tense but didn't let go. You did your best to hide the grimace on your face. He had only taken your hand so that the two of you would truly blend in as a married couple. No one gave you a second glance or thought as moved through town. You were just thankful to be holding his right hand - his human hand. And it was probably best he had on gloves in case you accidentally lost your temper and your hands caught on fire. 

The longer the two of you walked, the more relaxed your grip became. It's not that you suddenly enjoyed his company or fully trusted him. But you were just two colleagues with a bigger picture. After some very casual and inconspicuous investigating, you felt pretty damn certain where to find the Hydra base; having an ex-member of Hydra had its perks because Bucky knew exactly what to look for. You would spend the day tomorrow making sure and gathering intel on what operation they might be running inside since this was supposedly a pretty important laboratory or something of the like. You'd know for sure tomorrow. 

After shutting the door to your little hotel room you called dibs on using the bathroom first. You pulled off your earrings and dropped them in a little pouch in your luggage as you gathered your pajamas. "I guess you're not completely useless," you offered the closest thing to a compliment he would ever receive. "I mean, your knowledge of Hydra is going to save us a lot of time." You still weren't positive that he wasn't a sleeper agent but that was a concern you kept to yourself because you knew it would upset Steve. 

"Thanks," Bucky said sarcastically (since he read your tone as insincere) and stood in front of the dresser and began to undress. He started with the sunglasses and gloves. He began to unbutton his shirt and you were so tempted to stare. You knew what was under the fabric of Steve's clothes and Bucky was another super soldier so it must look just as nice right? No! You were NOT attracted nor were you going to be attracted to this man. You gathered your things and hurried into the bathroom. 

You took a nice cold shower to calm those raging hormones. You told yourself that any sort of itch or heat you might be feeling came from the fact that you hadn't been laid in what felt like ages. That was all. You scuffled out of the bathroom in your fluffy socks and knee-length dress that you always slept it - it was faded to nearly white from constant wash and wear. You slipped comfortably into the center of the mattress to let Bucky know that you wouldn't be sharing the bed. 

He had already come to turns with sleeping on the floor. He wasn't really going to complain because, all things considered, the floor of a luxury hotel was not the worst place he had ever slept. He silently moved into the bathroom and shut the door so he could shower. You slipped under the sheets and checked your phone but the next thing you knew you were asleep - thanks jetlag. 

There was a moaning - it sounded pained and afraid. You pulled a pillow over your head to try and muffle the sound but you could still hear the panting and groaning. You sat up, ready to explode whatever was disturbing your precious sleep. You peered over the edge of the bed and realized that it was Bucky. You did want to get mad and blame him but he looked so. . . so vulnerable and small. He was curled up on the floor, his one blanket kicked aside. His right arm gripped his metallic left wrist tightly and his face was distorted into a mask of pain. He screamed out in a language you didn't understand - Russian. 

How many times had you woken up drenched in sweat and a scream still in your throat? More than you'd care to think. A wave of sympathy washed over your body and for the first time, you felt empathy for the ex-winter soldier. You silently slipped from the bed and into the bathroom. You damped a cloth with cold water and dabbed his forehead before placing it there. You were knelt beside him and reaching for your phone on the nightstand when you felt a hand around your throat. 

His cold, metallic fingers curled tightly around your throat. Could he really be that mad at you for accidentally waking him up? It's when you saw in his eyes that he didn't recognize you - he wasn't awake. Your left hand lit up in flames and you gripped his wrist tightly. "Let go," you croaked hoarsely. Your right hand grew warm but you kept it from lighting because you didn't want to scar him - actually, you couldn't have if you tried. His grip was so strong that you couldn't breathe and there was one thing you needed to keep a fire going: oxygen. You grabbed his right arm and the heat from your hand startled him fully awake. 

He let you go and scooted backwards to catch your breath. You coughed violently and held your throat. His gaze flickered between you and his metallic arm. He looked at his own hand with such disdain and hatred but when he would look at you? "(Y/N)," he whispered, "I'm sorry." He knew apologizing was not going to be enough. There was so much sorrow and self-hatred in his eyes. 

You pushed yourself into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. You cupped your hands under the faucet before just ducking your head into the sink and drinking straight from the running water. You gingerly traced the outline of his fingers on your neck and sighed. It was only when your heartbeat began to slow did you realize just how quickly it had been beating in your chest. After regaining your composure, you moved back into the room in time to see Bucky grabbing his bags. 

"I'll get another room," he said. He didn't think it would be good for the two of you to stay together after he had nearly killed you.

You just rolled your eyes and stood in front of the door. "Get in the bed." Bucky was shocked (and frankly, so were you). The only emotion on his face now was pure confusion. "Will you just get in bed and I can finish what I was doing?" you asked impatiently. He stood there debating it for awhile. He opened his mouth to protest. "Listen," you interrupted him before he could begin, "it's way too early for me to be dealing your bullshit so get your ass in the damn bed." 

He really didn't know what was going on. Maybe you were going to take vengeance and cook him into a Super Solider Burger right there on the bed and, while he didn't want to die, maybe he had it coming. He put his things away and nervously crawled into the center of the bed. "Don't be an ass. You get one side and I get the other," you grumbled. You were NOT a morning person. 

After inching to a side, you sat on your knees on the mattress with your phone in your hands. You handed him an earbud and played a gentle song with delta waves to try and trick his mind into being more relaxed. You moved over to your bag and dug around before pulling out a flask. You let him take a swig and he made a face. "Did you put flower in bourbon?" 

"It's lavender, yes. Lavender is supposed to help you sleep but. . ." You laughed sheepishly "It's in there to hide the flavor of the benzodiazepines." You took a swig as well and put away your moonshine. "You can't tell anyone about this," you said more seriously and moved into bed. You used the blanket he had been using on the floor to build a wall between the two of you on the bed. 

"You really don't want me telling anyone that you're putting tranquilizers in your booze?" he said sarcastically. You caught the hint of a smile before you shut all the lights off again. You're glad he wasn't mad because he had taken a sip before you had told him that it wasn't just regular alcohol. 

You settled under your blankets facing away from him and waited for the medicine to do its trick. "I think ninety percent of the team would hate me if they found out," you whispered. Everyone else on the team seemed so perfect and you were so heavily flawed still. "It just feels like I can never sleep." Bucky hummed in response; he understood that quite well. 

You shifted around so that you were able to see him even over your blanket wall. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell slowly. You sighed and closed your eyes letting your concoction do its job and carry you into a sleepless slumber. You'd never admit it, not even to yourself, but maybe the reason you resented Bucky so much was because you saw a lot of yourself in him.


	4. Who Put You in Charge? Pt. 3 {final part}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is not happy after he learned that you went ahead and destroyed the HYDRA base without his permission and his help. You could've gotten killed AND you ruined the mission! Your lucky that he doesn't hate you so much that he'd let you bleed out.

You stood in front of the sink with a cigarette between your teeth with the mindset that if your lips were distracted then you wouldn't fuss or scream. You had stripped out of your shirt and stood in just your bra and jeans. You checked your reflection in the mirror and gingerly traced your unsteady fingers over each bruise and abrasion before shakily moving around the outline of the bullet hole in your left bicep. You'd actually never been shot before which was surprising because, in your shady past, you had been stabbed. They were completely different sensations. 

The door to the hotel flew open and you quickly tossed the still lit cigarette into the toilet and flushed it. You had promised the whole team seven months ago that you had stopped smoking but that wasn't completely true and you didn't need to give Bucky one more thing to hold over you. His reflection caught your eye and his fiercely irritated expression could've shattered the glass. 

Since you didn't seem to be embarrassed about him seeing you in your bra, in fact you ignored his presence for as long as you could manage, he wasn't embarrassed about it either. "You blew the entire mission," he huffed, the steam basically coming out of his ears. "You don't listen to me and now we've lost all of that information!"

You rolled your eyes and spoke to his reflection as you wet a rag and wiped the blood from your wounds. "I tried listening to you and I even posed as your wife," you nearly gagged. "If you had listened to me then our cover would have never been blown and I wouldn't have had to act." You felt justified in your actions. 

Bucky clenched his hands into fists and flipped the mattress up against the wall in frustration. This was his first mission as an Avenger and he really did have something to prove. But there was more to it and he wasn't saying what it was. You flinched only because his brashness had startled you but still not enough to pull your attention away from the mirror. You placed large bandages over the raw abrasions while foolishly saving the bullet hole for last. 

"You destroyed everything in that laboratory!" Bucky yelled at you. 

That was enough to catch your attention because you still did not understand why he was so upset. You spun around which made you dizzier than you had expected - at least you were able to shake that off quickly. "That was the mission, right? Find the Hydra base so that we could eliminate it? I did that and I did it alone. So all I did was save everyone a trip out here." You shook your head in utter frustration and turned back to the mirror. You pulled tweezers out of your toiletries bag and then went digging around in your luggage for some alcohol to clean the wound and then to down so you could numb the pain. 

Bucky grabbed your left arm a little too close to your wound which caused you to bite your tongue hard enough that it bled. Yet, you held back any whimper because you would not give him that pleasure even though he hadn't hurt you intentionally - he only wanted your undivided attention. "Do you know what you destroyed? We were sent to find out what was in that lab. Do you know what was in it?" 

You felt like vomiting from the pain. Your stomach contorted into a knot of pain as the ache filled the entirety of your arm and shoulder. "Yes. Schematics for more cybernetics and formulas for creating new super soldiers - new winter soldiers like you," you spat vindictively. He winced a little at that. You still didn't trust him, did you? He wasn't a spy! He wasn't a double agent!

"Exactly," he said, the flatness of his voice sending a chill up your spine which made the hair on the back of your neck stand. "There was information in there that might've. . ." He huffed angrily and let you go. You stumbled to the closet and silently pulled out a flask, though it was a different one than the one from last night (this one wasn't drugged with benzodiazepines). 

You moved back into the bathroom and once your feet hit the tile you understood. Oh, what an idiot you were! Bucky had been hoping that there would be information on how to ensure that he was completely free from Hydra's grasp. And the schematics for the cybernetics. . . they would've been useful in creating a new arm for Bucky more quickly - one that didn't have a Soviet star on it. You pinched the bridge of your nose. 

"Look, our cover was blown and I was afraid that they'd move all of their information before we had time to strike," You explained. You closed the lid to the toiler and sat down. The pain was making it harder to focus so you downed half of the flask. You moved it to your arm and couldn't help but cry out when the alcohol stung your arm and cleaned it from infection. As hard as you tried to keep quiet throughout the whole endeavor, you did have a breaking point. Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks but you refused to let that happen. 

"I didn't think it through and I'm sorry that you didn't get what you were looking for but I couldn't risk them having the information to make more of you," you explained further, your voice a crackly mess of gasps and hisses. You held a no longer white towel to the wound to try and soak up some of the blood before you could dig around for the bullet. 

Bucky finally peered into the bathroom. He knew you had been hurt and part of him thought 'fine, she deserved this for going in alone' but the other part of him wasn't a complete monster so he didn't like seeing you in pain. He sighed and reluctantly moved into the bathroom. He grabbed the tweezers from your hand and held your arm. "Bite the towel," he said quietly and you complied. 

Your breathing quickened and your cries were hardly muffled through the fluffy, sodden fabric. It felt like days or perhaps weeks though you knew it had taken less than a minute for Bucky to get the bullet of your arm. He didn't warn you that he was pouring more alcohol over the wound which caused you to scream. He was too focused to apologize. He worked quickly on getting a needle and thread to sew you up. It would have to do until you could get proper stitches. 

You rested your shaky arms on your knees and put your face in your hands. You did your little breathing exercise to try and calm you down and slow your heart-rate. If you weren't so distressed and low on blood at the moment, you'd be lit up like a bonfire. Instead, your skin was the coolest it had been in years. You caught your breath and wiped your eyes. The whole thing had been embarrassing because you hadn't handled it nearly as well as you had wanted to. But it hurt!

Bucky washed his hands of your blood. "It's not just that you destroyed everything,(Y/N), it's that you did it alone. I know you hate me, but we're partners." He had thought that after the brief tenderness of last night, you had moved on from completely hating him but he had been a fool to have gotten his hopes up. 

You sighed and wiped off the rest of the blood and finally pulled a shirt on. You moved into the main room and wiggled out of your jeans and into the athletic shorts you wore to bed. Bucky did catch a glimpse of you in your underwear and he stepped back into the bathroom again. Now he was a little embarrassed because he felt like he saw something he shouldn't have. If the room wasn't so tense, he would've absolutely teased you about the gray silky drawers you wore. They were nice. . . they were really nice. It's why he felt guilty that he had seen them even though you had been the one to brazenly change where he could see you. 

He cleared his throat as a polite way to signal that he was coming into the room. You were sitting on the edge of the bed checking your phone. . . well, pretending to at least. With a sigh you sat your phone down and glanced his way. "You don't trust me either, you know," you said quietly. "I didn't think you'd help me and. . . I guess I still feel like I have something to prove, too." You shrugged like it was nothing but you were telling this man the secrets you kept from the rest of the team. Why were you doing that?! 

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. You had been a part of the team since the Battle of New York. What could you possibly have to prove? "Everyone else is so in tune with who they are and what they can do. It's been years and I know they still look at me like I'm a child who can't control herself." You looked at your hands and clenched your fingers into fists and then opened your palm to reveal a small flame. You closed your fist again and it went away. "I don't want them to think I can't do this alone." 

You kept opening your fist to reveal a flame that you would immediately smother with your fist. Bucky sat beside you and rubbed his knees. He wasn't really the best person to be offering advise. You didn't need him to offer advise. "You won, okay? I shouldn't have gon-"

He interrupted you by grabbing your fist while it was closed to keep it closed. "We're a team, as much as you don't want us to be a team, we're a team. We're in this together, okay?" That's all he'd say. He still was upset that you had lost that information but he couldn't blame you for acting; you were probably right anyway and they would've gotten away if you hadn't acted. 

You glanced over at him and held his gaze in the silence. The air was still tense but it was different now. It was no longer hot and angry and hostile. It was warm and fuzzy and almost comfortable. You got to really look into those blue eyes again and it was like diving into the sea. His lips twitched and you knew he felt it too - the electricity. He reached over and brushed his fingers across your cheek to tuck your hair back. But your cheek was bruised so you winced at the touch. He yanked his hand back. He knew that it wasn't his fault but he still felt like he broke everything he ever touched. 

Whatever spark was there a moment ago was gone and with a sigh you scooted back on the bed and under the covers. "Should I. . ." He wasn't sure if he was welcome in your bed again. 

"Just get in the bed," you sighed and closed your eyes. You could share the bed one more time before heading home tomorrow. Besides, you were just two teammates sleeping right? There was absolutely not anything more.

No way.


	5. Who Do You Think You Are?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky took the fall for you when it came to your somewhat failed mission because he felt bad for you. Too bad thanking someone is not your forte. Things usually work out though.

You avoided Bucky still but because you were confused about how you felt about him. There had been a small little empathetic breakthrough (a connection if you must) in Italy. That didn't mean you were immediate friends now. That wasn't what confused you though; he had fallen on the sword when you came back. You were responsible for the destruction of lots of valuable Hydra information that the team had been expecting to extract; you were going to take full responsibility for your actions since it really was fully your responsibility. Instead, Bucky claimed that he had done most of the destruction and that it had been his idea - supposedly you had only helped so that he didn't get killed. 

Why did he do that? He was trying to prove himself here as much as you were but your position with the Avengers was certainly more secure than his own. Steve's disappointment was worse than anything else that was thrown his way. You felt guilty and wanted to come forward but you didn't. The only thing Bucky had said to you since coming back was that he knew what he was doing and that he didn't mind taking the fall. 

Why, though?

It was almost a solid two weeks before you were alone with him again. You were in the kitchen making a late night snack of mac and cheese - a guilty pleasure that you just needed to indulge in after a particularly frustrating day in the gym. Bucky moved in to the fridge and pulled out a Gatorade to take into the gym now that you were done. He had been avoiding you, too, and so he had been doing a better job of not bothering you during your precious gym time. 

He was about to walk out without so much as a hello and, while normally that would've been ideal, you had had something on your mind for awhile now. "Why'd you do it?" you asked. They barely got along and after one small moment in an Italian hotel he was willing to risk everything for you? There must be an angle but weeks of pondering got you nowhere conclusive. 

Buck only shrugged and popped the cap off of his blue drink. You sighed and crossed your arms. "Seriously? I get a shrug. You could've gotten kicked off the team or put on suspension and you won't even do me the favor of telling me why you took the bullet for me? Me." The water in your pot was ready to boil over but you were distracted. 

He scratched his jaw and sat his drink down before leaning against the counter. "I felt bad," he admitted and shrugged again as if it was nothing. You had implied that you didn't always feel strong or worthy. You still felt as if you had something to prove to the team. He understood that feeling but fitting in with the team was more important to you than to him. 

"I don't need your sympathy," you frowned quietly. You came across angry and maybe you were. The water boiled over and you cursed as you turned down the heat and stirred your macaroni. With a heavy exhale you added to your thought, "I appreciate it but I didn't tell you everything so you could feel sorry for me." You still weren't sure why you had been so open with him before. 

The reality of the situation was that you were flattered and relieved and touched. He really would do something like jeopardizing his future here for you. You moved the pot to the sink to strain out the water so you could add the milk and cheese. 

"Fine. Next time you can take the fall again," Bucky growled and snatched his drink. He had done you a favor and you seemed ungrateful so he was beginning to regret it. He stormed off to the gym to blow off steam leaving you with a guilty knot in your gut. You finished your mac and cheese but with the tightness in your stomach it no longer seemed satisfying. 

You threw it in the fridge and cleaned up before sulking to the gym. You stood awkwardly and silently just inside the doorway. You didn't want to throw off his groove. There was no music playing and he didn't even seem to have headphones in as he hammered on his punching bag. He knocked it off the wall and picked it up with his metal arm and threw it across the room in frustration. It nearly hit you. He stood there breathing heavily - he wouldn't have thrown it that way had he known you were there.

"Listen. . . I'm not ungrateful for what you did for me. . . But I'm a big girl and. . ." You couldn't hold his gaze while you tried to apologize. Admitting you were wrong was always difficult. "I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?" You crossed your arms and your lower lip pouted angrily. 

Bucky grabbed his drink and downed it quickly before tossing the empty plastic bottle aside. "No. I wanted a thank-you," he said matter-of-factly. He kept his distance from you but you could still see the sweat gleaming on his fair skin and toned muscles. The ceiling light gleamed against the metal of his left arm. 

It was hard enough to apologize but when you learned you had wasted an apology on him it just upset you. "Fine! Thank-you. Thank-you so much for doing something I didn't ask you to do and then blaming me for not thanking you sooner. Thanks." Well, that wasn't the best way to thank someone. . . 

He clenched his jaw and stepped in closer. You could almost smell his sweat but not the dirty, unwashed kind; the kind that accompanied a good workout - the heated, impassioned sweat that usually accompanied sex. It was like a pheromone and something stirred inside of you. "You're a bitch, you know that, (Y/N)? And tomorrow I can tell the whole team who really burned down the Hydra base."

Did he just call you a bitch?! You clenched your hands into fists to contain the heat building inside you but the flames danced around your knuckles anyway. The closer he got to you the more likely it was that you'd finally cook his hide. "Listen here, asshole! I don't know who you think you are and you sure as hell don't seem to know who you're talking to but-" 

Bucky backed you completely against the wall. His right hand held your waist and his left one held your ignited wrist against the plaster. His fingers curled between yours and smothered the flames. His lips found yours but only after he uttered, "You never shut up." His stubbled jaw chafed your smooth skin. Turns out you weren't the only one experiencing heated moments of uncontrollable attraction.

Your tongue passed through his lips and tangled with his own. The grip on your waist tightened and you moaned in satisfied surprise. A low growl rumbled in his throat. "You're still an asshole," you pulled away from the kiss just to add because you had to have the last word. He hushed you and pressed his lips against yours again leaving you so breathless that you couldn't possibly fathom interrupting the kiss again. 

You jumped up on his hips and slipped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his long hair or gripping into his back. He held onto your backside to keep you balanced in his grip. He stumbled around and eventually fell backwards into the boxing ring that usually only Tony used. He laid backwards and you held his face as you kissed over his skin - his lips and jaw and chin. You bit at his earlobes as you rolled your hips down over his. 

His excitement was unmistakable. His fingers traced around the hem of your shorts before expertly ripping them off of you without making you miss a beat. For a ninety-year old, he really had some tricks up his sleeve. Your underwear was damp and grew wetter as you rubbed against his heat. Your own fingers danced around the material of his pants but he wasn't pleased with the amount of time it was taking you to undress him. He shoved his pants down just enough that he was released from his fabric prison. 

Your lips traveled back to his and your heavy breathing mixed with his so it was as if you were sharing a breath. With his heat pressed against your dampening panties, an electric shiver traveled up your spine which caused you to clamp down on his lip a little too tightly. "Fuck, (Y/N)," he growled and his tongue flicked across his blood lip. 

You knew what he meant but a smirk crossed your lips. "If that's what you want." You pulled your panties off and tossed them aside before letting him enter your body. Your fingernails dug into his arms, leaving marks only on his right forearm. It was involuntary but your body temperature rose and he had to ask you to calm down before you burned him and his most important appendage. You laughed and kissed him. It wasn't your fault he was so damn sexy. 

His hands rested on your hips as you let his full length enter your body. Your chest heaved heavily and a moaned vibrated through your still clothed chest. You sat up and rested your hand on his strong chest before increasing your speed. His rhythm matched your own which only made it better. 

You liked being on top because it meant you were in control but he liked control, too. And as heat traveled from between your legs to the entire length of your thighs, as your skin grew blotchy and sexflushed, as your muscles shivered from the large release of oxytocin he flipped around so that you were underneath him. 

He held the underside of your knees and pumped his member deep inside you. It was so rare for you to experience an orgasm with no foreplay but you felt it blossoming inside of you. You threw your head back and arched your back. A spark, the peaked feeling traveled from deep within and then through every nerve. Like a full orchestra reaching the peak crescendo or a fury of cymbals and fireworks, your body convulsed and you had to cover your mouth to muffle the excessive moans sneaking past your lips. 

The sound of your sultry moans was enough to push him the final distance. His low growls could've fueled you for ages. Your toes curled as he pressed fully inside of you and finished. He was too in the moment to realize that he probably should've pulled out but it was far too late for that now. He removed himself from you and you rolled your head to the side. You bit your lower lip to try and hide how large your smile was. He was still large even flaccid; makes sense considering the length and girth he had when fully erect. 

Your center was still warm and pulsating so you took a moment to catch your breath as you felt his ejaculation drip out of you. "I can't believe you finished in me," you muttered and sat up. He stepped away to grab your panties and shorts which you promptly slipped on. You stayed seated on the the boxing ring but moved to the edge so your legs dangled to the floor. 

Bucky stood beside you and was also at a loss of words. That had been good. That had been really good. But it was fueled by anger and primal urges. The two of you locked eyes for a moment. "What now?" he asked.


	6. So Petty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After agreeing to pretend that your late night mistake never happened, Bucky pulls out all of the pettiest stops to get under your skin. He gets a rise out of irritating you which, luckily for him, doesn't take much. At least you know how to be petty back in retribution.

"What now?" he asked. 

That was the question of the year wasn't it? This was certainly the last thing you ever expected to happen. "Now? Everything goes back to the way it was. This was. . . it was just a one time thing and no one needs to know about it." Bucky nodded slowly as he came to terms with that. It's not like what had just happened was anything besides fire and passion and fulfilling your most carnal desires. Even still, it was weird and difficult to just pretend it didn't happen. 

You pulled your hair over your shoulder and sauntered to the doorway. A small smile was on your lips. "It was good," you added. Being with him had been one of the most satisfying moments in your life. "But don't let it go to your head." You moved back to your room, your heart still racing in your chest. You had to take a cold shower to cool off being figuratively and literally. The steam from your heated skin sizzled under the cool water. 

Sleep came easily. Your body was tired and relaxed and you had released a lot of pent-up anger and energy. The next morning was not as peaceful or enjoyable. Bucky had gone ahead with his not-so-empty threat of confessing that he had covered for you about the busted mission. Now not only did you have to deal with the fallout of your mistakes, but you could feel everyone judging you for letting him take the fall for you. There was a layer of trust just lost. 

If you had been allowed to handle this on your own originally, then things wouldn't have been as bad as they were now. Now you were on suspension because not only should you have known better than to burn down a Hydra facility that contained information they needed but you let a newer member of the team take the blame and the punishment. What kind of leader were you to let that happen?! So you were "given time to reflect and work on your team-building skills." It was a slap in the face. You knew you were only in trouble because Bucky had originally taken the fall for you. 

"Motherfucker," you uttered under your breath as you passed him in the hall. 

"You said that things were going back to normal," Bucky said nonchalantly. Normal meant that the two of you were in a pissing contest for whatever reason. The reason: you couldn't stand his smug little face. "This is what I would've normally done. You didn't want me to take the fall for you so I fixed it." 

You pinched the bridge of your nose. You really shouldn't let him get to you like you did but he got under your skin like a bad splinter. "You're just shitty because I told you weren't going to get laid again," you hissed and crossed your arms. "Turning me in for that was pretty immature don't you think?" 

Bucky just shrugged once. "I could get laid whenever I want," he said and stepped in closer. Your skin grew rosy and he chuckled. You weren't blushing! You were filled with righteous anger! He didn't even seem phased by being called immature. . . well, maybe that hadn't been the sickest of burns but still. 

With a roll of your eyes you moved away from him. "Sure. Don't come begging to crawl between my legs next time you're all riled up with blue balls. You just burned that bridge," you huffed. You hadn't really been planning on sleeping with him again anyway. There were a hundred reasons besides hating him that would keep you from sleeping with a teammate (that being the first one - he was part of your team and that was usually just a bad idea). But now even if you found there was a fire in your loins, he would not be the one to satisfy you. He was just a petty, irritating, small-minded bastard!

"You'll come to me first," he promised. You growled angrily. After storming to your room you made sure to childishly slam the door as hard as you could muster just to make sure he was aware that you were angry (in case it wasn't obvious enough). He was insufferable! First he damaged your reputation and career and then he had the nerve to say that you'd be crawling right back into his arms! The nerve. 

Your suspension wasn't going to be long-lived. But you did miss out on going to a mission in the Bahamas which was more than a little upsetting. Most of the team thought that you sitting out just one mission would help fix your notoriously bad attitude - it's not like they really didn't want you to be there with them! But you needed a serious attitude adjustment. 

The one bit of solace you had was knowing you had a week without Bucky Barnes to be in your way since he had gone on the mission, too. It left you all alone to collect your thoughts and calm down. That week of quiet was really good to clear your head and calm your frazzled nerves. You felt much better and couldn't wait to tell everyone that you were more than ready to get back out in the field when they returned. If you just did a better job of avoiding Bucky then you wouldn't even have to worry about fried nerves anymore either!

Except it wasn't that easy. Everyone came back and all was well until night came. You were tossing and turning in bed - trying to sleep without taking a sip of your dangerous concoction. It wasn't just the insomnia keeping you awake, though, but it was the constant, rhythmic thudding coming from the other side of the wall. It took you a little bit too long to realize just what was making the sound - his headboard. Muffled sighs and moaned pushed their way into your room. You covered your head with your pillow and groaned.

Did Bucky seriously bring a girl home? When did he even have the time to meet a girl on the mission? In the morning, you saw her sneaking out - heels in hand doing the walk of shame to the front entrance. By the outfit you could tell she was a stewardess - you still don't know how he managed that since the quinjet or one of Tony's private jets were the main mode of transport. Bucky, shirtless, stepped out of his room. His hair was in a much more disastrous state than normal. He watched her leave down the hall before turning to face you. A look of victory and satisfaction masked his face. 

Gag. You rolled your eyes. "You're not really supposed to bring strangers in here," you huffed and moved past him to get some coffee from the kitchen. The blood in your body boiled and flames danced across your fingertips. Oo, you hated him! In just one night he was able to ruin all of that progress you had been making in controlling your temper and your attitude. 

That night everyone was having drinks to celebrate the victory of their mission. And where there was alcohol, there was your presence. Vodka was your go-to and you always had it in your glass mixed with some sort of juice or tonic. You mingled with Wanda and Vision. You chatted with Tony and Natasha. Eventually you settled onto the couch near Sam and Steve where they were laughing and speaking with Bruce and Bucky. 

You kept catching Bucky's gaze. He was surprisingly uncomfortable because you weren't looking at him with your usual malice. In fac,the was having a harder time reading your expression but it wasn't hard to tell that you had something up your sleeve. You gave off the impression that you were drunker than you were which wasn't hard since you usually overdrank at these things. 

Your legs were crossed and resting over Sam's. He had a hand on your knee and thoughtlessly rubbed his thumb back and forth. It was completely platonic and comfortable but Bucky was still new enough not to know the full extent of everyone's relationship. If you had slept with him, had you slept with anyone else? And did they crave you the way he still craved you? His eyes would wander to Sam's hand and he would take a sip of his beer. Nothing made you happier because you could tell he was jealous. 

You slipped an arm around Steve's shoulder and played with the ends of his short hair. Steve's gaze flickered over to you only a moment. You were extra grabby when you were drunk but even when you were sober you were very comfortable and touchy. He usually didn't mind since it really didn't mean anything. You finished the last sip of your vodka and sat the glass down. You leaned in and kissed Steve, his thick lower lip between yours. There was a faint taste of his bourbon and for just a moment you felt your tongue press against his. You hummed happily and stood up. "I think I'm going to call it a night," you said and left the party much earlier than you usually did. 

Everyone was left speechless. Sam's eyes were wide. Bruce's mouth gaped open and he was left wondering if he had missed something completely; was there something going on between the two of them that he didn't know about? Steve brushed his hand down his jaw; that had been unexpected and not completely unwelcome. "I'm going to check on her and make sure she makes it to her room," he said because the only logical reason you had kissed him was because you were drunk. 

Bucky's jaw clenched and his metallic grip tightened on the couch. It was ridiculous that he was as jealous as he was but he knew that you had only kissed Steve to piss him off. He downed the rest of his beer and longed for the sensation of inebriation that was nearly impossible to attain as a super soldier. He shook his head and walked off. He was more upset that he was jealous than he was actually jealous. You weren't his. He had literally been with a different woman that morning. 

He passed by your open door as he moved into his own room. He heard Steve's voice carry through to his room. "You haven't been this drunk in a long time, (Y/N). Are you alright?" He was just worried that maybe you had gotten drunk because you were upset about not being able to join in on the mission. You explained that you were fine and that since you didn't drink as much as you used to that you had become a lightweight. You hadn't realized that you had passed your limit since that's how much you used to drink and be fine. It was a lie and while you felt guilty about it, Steve bought it and left the room. 

Bucky listened to Steve's footsteps retreat down the hall before moving into your room. You were tossing your shoes into the closet and struggling to unzip the dress that you had had Wanda zip you into initially. "Don't play with him like that," Bucky frowned and blocked the doorway. 

"He's a big boy and he's fine," you assured him. You stopped struggling with your dress for the moment and moved into your private bathroom. You pulled your hair out of its bun and let it fall past your shoulders. You brushed it out quickly and began to take your makeup. "If that's all you can leave now." 

You heard the door shut and sighed in relief. But when you turned around he was on your side of the door. "No. You don't know Steve like I do and you're not going to hurt him just to try and get back at me." He was still protective of his friend decades later. Your hands closed into angry fists.

"You knew Steve like a hundred years ago. I know Steve now and I'm telling you that he's fine. He just thought I was drunk. Can you leave now, please?" You moved to the door to open it as a sign that he needed to go. But he blocked the door with his large frame. "Move." Your foot tapped impatiently. "Don't make me ask again." Your hands lit up in flames. He would leave by force if that's what it came to. 

His left hand grabbed one of your wrists and his right hand grabbed your forearm so he wouldn't get burnt. He shoved you against the closed door and pressed his lips to yours. "No!" You pulled your head to the side and struggled against his inhumanly strong grip. "I said not again!" You wanted to raise your leg to knee him in the groin but his foot stood on yours. You were trapped. His lips traveled across your jaw and back to your lips. "No," you said with less force this time as you melted into his touch. 

"Damn you," you said and your body relaxed enough that your flames went out. He trusted you wouldn't burn him now so he let go of your hands and held your hips. Your hands slipped through his hair and your knees grew weak as his lips left yours and traveled down to your collarbone and shoulders. Your exposed skin was covered in goosebumps. "And you thought I'd come to you first," you smirked, proud that he had given in first and so soon. 

"Yeah, well when you piss me off it just kind of gets me going," Bucky growled and left a hickey on the base of your neck. You did wonder if the two of you would ever be together when you weren't overflowing with passion from anger. Not that it mattered because this was the last time. It had to be! You had to make it count even if you were angry that you had to hide a hickey now. 

His hand moved to your back and fumbled with your zipper as his lips found yours again.. He pulled the fabric off of your shoulder and let your dress fall to your ankles. His robotic fingers curled around the center of your strapless bra and he popped it off, breaking the clasps. "Ow." You bit his lip again and he growled, even more impassioned. "I liked that bra." 

"I'll buy you another just stop talking so much." The idea of Bucky buying you any form of undergarment was kind of sexy and you felt your panties dampen. 

He scooped you up and tossed you onto your bed. Your legs were kept closed as the flame in your center grew much more noticeable and unbearable. You needed some action and you wanted it now. He hovered over your body, his lips covering your face and neck in kisses as his cold, metallic hand cupped your breast. Your body was unusually high since you had fire abilities so the cool of his metal was enough to stiffen your nipples immediately. You felt the low rumble of a chuckle in his throat as his fingers pinched at your erect nipples. 

You gasped and bit your lower lip. The warmth between your legs growing ever damper and more alive. Your legs crossed at the ankles and the knees with hope that the pressure from crossing them would provide some sort of relief. It didn't take long to find the relief you so desperately needed. His fingers moved from your bosom and into your panties. 

His touch was warmer now just from moving across your heated skin. His forefinger and middle finger glided gently over your slick heat. You huffed and sighed and groaned as he teased you. "You're such an asshole," you growled, your body shivering with anticipation. He smirked delightedly. After all of the hell you put him through, and seemingly for no reason other than you just didn't like him, he felt like this was due. 

His fingers brushed ever so gently over your clitoris sending shivers up your spine. His own excitement pressed against the outside of your leg through his pants. Patience was never your virtue - not in the bedroom at least. With an exasperated sigh you pulled him out of his shirt and sat up so you could more easily remove his pants. In a swift motion you had his pants and boxers down to his knees. He sprung loose and you eyed him greedily. 

His head cocked to the side as he stepped out his clothes. He didn't think it was fair that he was completely naked now and you weren't so literally ripped your panties off. "You owe me underwear now, too," you said breathlessly as his lips made their way back to you. 

"I'll get you a set," he swore and your body shuddered in delight. Maybe you could wear it for him next time. . . no! No next time! Just this time! If he ever got around to actually pleasuring you this time, that is. Your legs spread open, your center begging to be touched - no, to be pounded. Your chest rose and fell heavily. "You want it bad, don't you?" he asked, a whisper in your ear. The tickling sensation making you drip even more. The words were caught in your throat so you only nodded. 

He sat up. "It's a shame because I just don't think I'm in the mood anymore." Obviously he was. Physically there was no denying it. But getting blue balls for the sake of denying you was a pleasure he was enjoying far too much. You groaned and debated slipping your own hand to handle the business he was obviously too afraid to take care of himself. It just wouldn't be the same. 

You pushed him on the bed. "If you don't fuck me after this, we're going to have some issues," you threatened him. You tucked your hair behind your ears before kissing down his chest and around his erection. Your tongue glided up his length. Your lips curled around the tip and he panted excitedly. This isn't what he had expected to happen but he wouldn't have it any other way. You moved your head rhythmically up and down but you were never brave enough to take his full length. You were already ready to gag halfway down. 

His fingers curled in your hair and his breathing quickened. If he finished before having you, you'd probably have to castrate him. What you weren't expecting to happen was for him to bring your head down his complete length. Your nose pressed against his abdomen and your throat constricted. You gagged and coughed as you pulled away. "Motherfucker!" You yelled and smacked his chest as he just laughed. He enjoyed that way more than you had! "I couldn't breat-" He shut you up by kissing you. 

He rolled you back around and with one skilled motion his dick was inside you. You moaned heavily into his lips and your nerves lit up with excitement. He pumped inside you quickly, each motion bringing you closer and closer. What brought you to the edge was his thumb that he placed on your clit and rubbed in clockwise circles. 

Your legs shivered and his free hand found balance on one of your bobbing breasts. Your pants fell into unison as his pace would slow into thick, deep plunges and then speed back up into scream-inducing thrusts. You tried to stay as quiet as possible so as not to alert the other Avengers of the dirty secret you were trying to keep. 

His breathing quickened and you could tell that he was about to finish before you were done. He used his fingers to rub more quickly on your clit. You back arched and your toes curls as you reached the peak. "Fuck!" you screamed and covered your mouth because that was certainly too loud. He had barely enough time to pull out before finishing inside of you, instead choosing to cum on your nice, clean sheets (well, they weren't clean now). 

"See? Didn't finish inside this time," Bucky joking bragged as he pecked at your lips. You laughed and swatted him away. 

"Well, congratulations, you just lowered your chances of being a father. Let me get you a reward," you teased right back. You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, slowly. He held your back and pressed your body close to his. It was the most pure and intimate moment the two of you had shared thus far. He pulled back first and rested his forehead against yours. "Now this time. . . this was the last time," you said and met his eyes. He nodded and gave you a look that told you that he agreed though there was a twinkle in his eyes that gave you the impression that maybe he was lying. 

You peeled away and tossed your sheet in your hamper. "Don't forget you owe me underwear," you said and sauntered into the bathroom to take a shower. You turned the water on and peeked back into the bedroom but he was already gone. You hadn't invited him to stay and you knew that it was best if he didn't. You didn't want to get caught after all. But part of you had wanted to be held until you fell asleep. Another part of you had hoped he would join you in the shower.

With a shake of your head, you stepped into the water. No. That was the last time. That meant no shower sex and no late night cuddles. It was just a passionate, cathartic experience for two enemies. That was all. You told yourself that over and over as if hearing it would make it true. You did not once say that you were wildly attracted to him and found his presence comforting even if he drove you up the wall like no other. Nope. You did not admit that once. 

You finished your shower and pulled on clean underwear from your dresser. The room still smelled like sex and his cologne. You curled up under your comforter, the heat between your legs fading but still present. You turned your gaze to your shared wall and sighed. You were getting in a little too deep, you knew this, so why did you want to dive in further?


	7. Make Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of you may not be the best of friends, but that seems to work in your favor as Bucky finds any reason to piss you off just so that you can continue to blow off steam in your very favorite way. But will he take it too far just to get laid?

You stumbled into the kitchen looking less hungover than everyone expected. Natasha was sitting at the counter with a coffee and was checking something on a laptop. Steve was preparing some breakfast. You moved beside the super soldier and pulled his head down to your height so you could peck his cheek. "Sorry," you apologized, "For last night." 

Steve smiled gently at the much more innocent gesture. "How about we just watch the amount of vodka next time, okay?" You agreed with a chuckle and poured yourself a coffee. You slipped into a booth beside the Black Widow and pulled out your phone, cursing silently because you only now realized you forgot to charge it last night. You had been distracted after all. 

Natasha was quiet until Steve left the room. Without looking up she asked, "So how was Barnes?" 

You winced and sipped your coffee quietly. There were two ways to play this and you knew that playing dumb wouldn't work. She would've said something completely different if she was only speculating that there was something there. No, she knew. That didn't make it any easier to come up with an answer. Natasha sighed and closed her laptop. "Could you at least try and be a little quieter?" Coffee nearly shot out of your nostrils. 

You sat your mug down and chewed the inside of your lip nervously. "Listen, I was pretty drunk and it's not happening again. So let's not make a deal out of this. . . please," you practically begged. You didn't need this scandal right now. Who knew what sort of fallout would follow something like this. You'd never hear the end of it from most of the team first of all. Secondly, it was an unspoken rule that the team did not hook up (even if they wanted to); it wasn't an official rule, of course, but it made everything easier in the long run. 

Natasha tossed her cup in the sink and grabbed a banana to go. "Fine. Just keep it down next time or the whole complex is going to know anyway." She walked out of the kitchen with a shrug. You were thankful that if anyone was to find it out it was only the best secret-keeper on the whole team. It was still embarrassing especially since you had tried to be quiet last night. You rested your head in your hands.

Bucky came sauntering in after. He was in high spirits after last night. He walked behind you and pinched your butts through your cheeky shorts. "Would you knock that off?" You yelled at him. First of all, you were not trying to get caught. Second, and most importantly, you weren't dating. You had just accidentally hooked up twice. 

"Leave her alone, would you? You already know she doesn't like you," Sam frowned as he entered the kitchen. He ruffled your hair as you walked by and you smiled at him. As your gaze shifted to Bucky your smile grew into a smirk. He rolled his eyes, grabbed his coffee, and left the room. 

"I'll beat his ass for you," Sam assured you.

"No, you won't," you laughed. Not that he wouldn't if circumstances were different but he was the last person who wanted to disappoint Steve. 

He just shrugged and smiled. "Maybe one of these days you'll get along at least."

"Yeah. . . maybe."

**********************

You covered your mouth to muffle your scream. Usually when a person came out of the bathroom from taking a shower there wasn't an intruder in their bedroom. But Bucky was sitting on the edge of your bed, comfortable reclining with his feet crossed at the ankles. "Out! What the hell do you think you're doing?" You held tightly onto the towel wrapped around your body. 

"Well, I wanted to catch you naked," he admitted truthfully just to get under your skin. What a pervert! "But then I found these." He held up a half-empty pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and playfully stuck it between his lips. "Tell me, are there any vices you don't succumb to?"

You snatched the cigarette from his lips and jammed it back in the packaging. "Get the fuck out," you said a little more clearly but with much more force. "You don't get to come in here just to pick through my things, spy on me naked, and bully me."

Bucky raised his hands. "If you really don't want people seeing you naked, close your door all the way," he suggested as you dragged him to his room and slammed his door close. You slammed yours as well for good measure. You pushed a cigarette between your lips and lit it in the bathroom with the fan on to suck out as much of the smoke and smell as possible. If you weren't already a drinker and smoker, you certainly would be now after dealing with his antics all day. 

Of course, you had to have the last word in everything so once you were dressed you stormed over to his room to give him a piece of your mind in order to ensure he never tried something like that again. "You are so disrespectful you know that?" He only added fuel to your fire by smiling. "Wipe that smug grin off, you little shit. I'm trying to yell at you! You can't just come storming into my room when I shower every time you're horny and think that you can just shove it in me. That's not how it works, mister, let me tell you!" 

He had gotten up and shut the door. Your ranting fell on deaf ears as he moved in closely to you and held your face, tilting it upwards so that he could more easily kiss it. "And don't you say I talk too much because that's just going to land you in hotter water," you muttered through the kissing. He only laughed and wrapped his arms around you so that you had no other choice but to melt into his embrace. 

When did you become so easy? Your arms crooked up underneath his own and held onto his shoulders. He kissed you until he was ready to have you. And the next thing you knew you were naked on his bed. "And don't you say this is the last time," Bucky said. He was teasing you because of what you had said earlier but the look in his eyes told you he meant it. It would be a lie to say it just like it had been a lie to say it the times before. "I think I can have you whenever I want to have you."

He just had to ruin a good moment didn't he? You slipped from his bed and pulled your clothes on. His smell hung around you like a cloud so you'd have to go spray some perfume or take another shower. Anything to smell like yourself again. "If you say things like that, you'll never have me again," you promised with a forced smile and promptly left him alone in his room. 

**********

It took almost nothing to upset you. You let him upset you, too, since you knew that was the only time the two of you got to enjoy each other's company. 

Spilled his drink on you? You did it in the closet near the kitchen.  
Made fun of how you dressed? He ripped those clothes right off of you. "Much better," he said.   
Yanked on your ponytail every time he passed you that day? He yanked it in bed that night, too. 

Every day he looked for something to do to mildly upset you and every day you found a reason to blow it out of proportion just to sneak into his bedroom a few minutes later. You worried less about getting caught because surely someone would've noticed your ruse by now if it wasn't convincing enough. 

********

When you slipped into Bucky's room that night, he was freshly showered and waiting for you in his towel, his hair still dripping water onto his firm shoulders. The smile that had crossed his lips disappeared as quickly as it had come. Something was different this time. You hadn't come storming in, hands alight, fury in your voice. There wasn't fire and steam and heat. In fact, the air felt colder and stiff and tight. If he didn't get out soon, he was afraid he might suffocate. 

Your lip twitched, itching for the paper feeling of a cigarette between your lips. You could imagine the sickly sweet smell traveling through your nose and blackening its way down your throat to your lungs. The phantom taste lingered on your tongue. "Why'd you say that?" you asked quietly, your voice a near-silent whisper that he only barely managed to hear because of the deafening quiet that surrounded the rest of the room. 

A large chunk of the team had gathered together to eat pizza and drink beer for dinner. You kept glancing in Bucky's direction waiting for him to do something small so the two of you could storm off separately before joining together in his room. But it wasn't a small thing he did. Turns out, there was a secret he knew about you that he thought the whole team knew and before you knew it. . . the whole team did know. 

Until his leaky mouth spilled the beans, only Natasha and Nick Fury knew your entire past. You had a feeling Tony knew more than he let on but that was a hunch that you were never able to confirm. Now everyone knew: you were ex-Hydra. You could feel it as they laid their eyes on you - distrust. If you had nothing to hide then why hadn't you mentioned your past before? It wasn't even as bad as it sounded but the way they looked at you sent you out of the room in tears before you could explain. 

"I didn't. . . I thought they knew," Bucky said. He held the towel tightly around his waist and shuffled his feet. 

"How did you even know?" You asked, exasperated and on the verge of crying again. You worked so hard to be a better person in everyone's eyes but you felt as if they'd never look past this. "The only people here that know wouldn't have told you." Natasha and Nick Fury were masters at secrets. 

His face contorted into a mixture of embarrassment and pain but mostly shame. "When you escaped, I was sent to find you but SHIELD had already gotten to you. I was supposed. . . They wanted me to kill you but decided to keep me on retainer. . ." Thinking about it clearly upset him but it upset you, too. 

"So you're telling me that the only reason I'm not dead right now is because Hydra wanted to keep you as a bigger surprise?" you asked for clarification. You knew there was a reason your gut had told you not to trust him. He had nearly been your assassin. "Were you ever going to tell me that you almost killed me?" 

Bucky's eyes did more pleading than his words ever could. "How was I supposed to say something like that? I never wanted you to know," his voice remained steady though it was moments away from breaking. These past weeks had been wonderful not only because he got to enjoy your form but because you kept him distracted from the memories of pain and death. 

"And I didn't want everyone to know I was ex-Hydra but we're past that aren't we?" Your lip quivered and you decided it was best to leave before he saw you cry. You'd never let him see you cry, especially not now. "You know, I didn't even know what I was signing up for. I was poor and afraid and sick. I owed someone a lot of money and this was my out. I had no idea who they were or what they were going to do to me." You were as ex-Hydra as he was. And while you knew it wasn't fair to hold him accountable for the things he was forced to do while he was under their spell because you had done things for them for your own survival too, the knowledge that he didn't tell you he had almost killed you was almost worse than everyone else knowing your dirty laundry. 

You slipped out of his room before he could say anything more and locked yourself in your own room. You lit a cigarette and a shuddered sigh escaped your lips as the nicotine entered your system. You popped the cork out of a vintage bottle of wine Tony had gifted you for your birthday last year. It would accompany your misery and your cigarettes quite well. 

As much as you didn't want to answer the knocks at your door, you were afraid of damaging your reputation even more by ignoring them. You weren't surprised to Steve in your doorway so you invited him in. You saw the look of disappointment cross his face when the smell of cigarettes hit his nose but at least he didn't mention it. The two of you sat on the edge of your bed. He asked you why you didn't trust the team enough to tell them. Everyone knew Natasha's past and hers was far cloudier than your own. 

You broke down into tears and explained everything to him. You were ashamed and scared. Natasha made something of herself after leaving her past behind but you were still making your way. You felt as if you already had so much to prove. You explained that your father had taken you to Italy to try and hide from some men he owed money to but then he had passed away transferring that debt to you. You had gotten sick from living on the streets and on the run. You were only seventeen. Hydra took you in and promised to care for you and heal you if only you'd do some work in return. The process of giving you your fire abilities was long and painful but successful. They forced you to train and to go into combat for them and you complied fearing for your life. But when the opportunity to run presented itself, you took it. Less than a day later you were in the custody of SHIELD. You didn't mention that the Winter Soldier had almost been sent to kill you (or worse, retrieve you). 

You leaned into Steve's shoulder as he rubbed your back. You wiped the tears from your face with the collar of your shirt. "I'm sorry. I should've told you. I just. . . I didn't know how and then it was too late." Steve kissed the top of your head and promised that it was alright and that he would talk to the team. He encouraged you to join him so that the air could be cleared and this could all be in the past. He walked with his hand on the small of your back out to the others. Bucky had been listening from his open bedroom and peeked his head out to watch you walk down the hall with Steve. 

He had really messed up and he wasn't sure if there was any going back to the way things were now.


	8. The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally reveal to Bucky why you had been so hostile all of this time.

The team was very supportive. When you had explained your whole story to them they were far less hostile than you had expected. They were upset that you thought you had to hide this big part of your life from them but they offered all of the support and encouragement that they could. And because of that, a lot of your barriers fell down - you didn't know that this would be the keystone in fixing your bad attitude. You had been holding yourself back in so many ways. 

Bucky was still riddled with guilt but since you seemed to be doing so well he figured that maybe he had a shot at fixing things and bringing things back to normal. He would yank on your ponytail or braid as he walked by. Sometimes he would just tug your loose hair. "Quit it!" you would yell and he would get his hopes up that you would sneak off to his bedroom but you didn't. 

Instead, you came strolling out of your room with freshly cut hair. You had been wanting to cut it for awhile anyway and had grown tired of the constant tugging so you finally went through with it. The ends of your hair tickled your jawline. You shook it out and moved past Bucky thoughtlessly while his eyes lingered on your new 'do. It looked really good on you. 

He found you next while you were reclining in bed with a book, your door cracked open. With a gentle knock, he pushed the door open and stepped just inside. Your gaze left the pages for only a moment before flickering back down. There was an avalanche of words pushing against your sealed lips but you knew that he'd expect something from you if you spoke. So you just didn't. 

He cleared his throat to grab your attention again. "Look, (Y/N), I just wanted to apologize," he said softly. You noticed the small bouquet in his hands. It was a sweet gesture though you weren't that into flowers. "I know I messed up and then I didn't make anything better. . . your hair looks real nice."

"Thanks," you said quietly and told him where he could set the flowers. He clenched his jaw and put them down. He missed having things the way they were. The fights had been so much better than this silence. But he wasn't going to push his luck anymore so he set the flowers on your dresser and slipped back to his room.

You stared at the collection of violet tulips and rosy carnations. You shut your book and moved to his door. It was closed which presented a larger problem than you had expected. Now you were left standing there considering if knocking was even a good idea. It would be so much easier to open your pages back up and hide in your story than to confront him. But you were no coward so you pushed your way into his room.

He was certainly not expecting to see you and that clear by the startled way his eyebrows furrowed together. "I just. . . I want you to know that I'm not mad at you," you said matter-of-factly. You had appreciated his apology because he had accidentally stepped out of bounds. But he hadn't done anything to intentionally hurt you and heavens knew that you had gone out of your way before to make his life more difficult. 

"Okay."

"I just needed time to just. . . I don't know. I needed to breathe and get my thoughts together," you explained further. He was sat on the edge of his bed, his boots unlaced but not yet thrown into the corner. You moved in closer and with trepidation took a seat next to him on the bed. Your fingers tangled into a nervous knot on your lap. "I was able to reflect on some things. . . and I realized that I never. . . really hated you."

It was hard to confess your feelings. It was especially hard when you had to bring in the topic of hatred. It was perhaps more taboo than love but that was a debate you'd leave for the scholars. Your fingers writhed like a bundle of snakes in your hands and he placed his hand over yours to keep them still. "What I mean is just. . . I know I was unfair to you when you first got here and it wasn't about you so much. . ."

Bucky wiggled his fingers into your knotted hand and laced them together. He gave you a reassuring squeeze - he would listen without interrupting. You could say as little or as much as you needed. 

"You were so much like me. I saw just. . . your story wasn't unlike mine but yours was so much worse. The things you went through completely paled my own experiences. I told myself that's why I distrusted you. . . because surely you couldn't come back from something like that. But that's not what it was. . . I was envious-"

"What?" Bucky did interject, almost angrily. That was the last thing he had expected to hear. Who in their right mind would wish to be brainwashed and controlled by the most infamous group of villains on earth for decades? 

You yanked your hand out of his and stood up. You should've known he wouldn't understand. You shook your head as you slipped out of his bedroom and to the kitchen. It had been so difficult to confess this to him but he didn't even try to understand. A shaky breath vibrated past your lips and your hands folded into fists. Your fingers hovered over a bottle of rosé until you forced your hand deeper into the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. Leaning against the counter, you took long gulps of the cold liquid. 

"I was in hell for years. I have nightmares every night of all the terrible things I endured and was forced to do. Why in the world would you want that?" Bucky asked from behind the island. He couldn't just let you leave after dropping a bombshell like that. 

You ran your tongue over your teeth. "That's not what I was envious of, asshole," you frowned and hurried back to your room. You were no longer in the mood to explain yourself; that ship had sailed and was just a dot on the horizon now. Bucky grabbed your arm and pinned you to the wall of the hallway. 

"What was it then? Envious of my past with Steve?" Pandora's box had opened and the only thing left inside was the answer he was searching for. You used your free arm to maneuver out of his grip. You curled his right arm behind his back and kept his face pinned to the wall. 

"Sure," you agreed only so he'd leave you alone. Maybe you were worried about losing one of your closest friends to him but that wasn't really it. And he knew that you were dancing around the answer. As good of a fighter as you were, you still didn't possess enough combat knowledge to go toe-to-toe with the winter soldier. In a blur of motion that your mind didn't even have time to process you were on your back and his knee was to your chest. He just wanted answers but you did not want to talk. 

Your hands lit up and you grabbed his knee. He hissed as the heat burned a hole through his pants and seared his skin. You rolled away from him and let the flames dance up to your shoulders. "You want to dance? Let's dance?" He used his left arm for most of his attacks since that was the best way to keep himself from getting burnt. 

It might've been more like a dance had Bucky not been used to using brute force to win all of his battles. Usually when fire was involved there was choreography of ducking and dodging. Instead, Bucky came at you more offensively than defensively. Your fist swung at his head and he caught your fist, yanking it uncomfortably to the side which brought you to your knees. He didn't want to hurt you. "Stop it, (Y/N)," he asked you. He didn't want this to go too far. 

With a short burst of fire that blazed across his calves, you brought him down to your level. You shook your other wrist free of flames and punched him in the jaw. He used his right hand to roll his jaw; that had been a good hit. You pulled out of his grip but something had snapped inside of him. He wasn't completely free of the coding they had done in his head. 

The two of you stood and as you spun around to gather momentum to kick him in his chest his left fist made connection with the bridge of your nose. The force of that metallic stop was far worse than connecting with flesh and bone. You stumbled backwards into the wall and slid down to your butt, stars dancing around the top of your head. Blood came rolling out of your nose and dripped from your chin. 

Bucky stood in shock and shook off the fog that had clouded his judgement. He swore loudly and grabbed your water bottle from the floor. He curled your hands around it before running to the kitchen to grab ice and a rag. He knelt beside you and dabbed the blood. You snatched the rag from his grip and held it to your nose. "That was a good one," You said quietly and leaned your head forward to keep the blood from dripping down your throat. 

The ruddy bruising already began to surround your nose like bad blush. "Shit, (Y/N), I'm sorry," his voice was so small. He didn't want to be around you because what if he hurt you again? He had hurt you twice now. But he also didn't want to leave you alone. 

You only shook your head and told him to sit. You motioned to the wall on the other side of the hall. "I started it. And I got you a couple times, too," you said, your voice nasally from pinching the towel around your nostrils. You couldn't really be mad since the whole situation had been avoidable. 

He reluctantly took the spot on the floor across from you. He wrung his hands nervously in front of him and avoided eye contact though he would glance up occasionally just to make sure you were okay. This wasn't the first time you had broken your nose though this time definitely hurt the worst. 

"I was envious because you seemed like you were in a better place than I was even though you went through so much more than I did," you explained quietly before chuckling. The soft giggles erupted into uncontrollable laughter. Bucky watched you uneasily, an uncomfortable laugh itching the back of his throat. 

"I thought that I handled my transition from Hydra to SHIELD poorly and you came waltzing in with nothing but some nightmares," you managed between snickers. You held your gut as the laughter peaked and then slowly settled. You were an icon for madness with your bloodied face and raging laughter so Buck was relieved to see you calm.

"Boy, I was wrong," you finished with a chuckle. You spent all this time hating yourself because you still wore your trauma like a full-bodysuit. Your temper was a defense mechanism and your inability to fully control your powers came from the irremovable fear that Hydra was right around the corner watching and waiting to punish you. You had nightmares too but you often drowned those out by foolishly taking medication with alcohol. At first, it seemed like all Bucky had were those nightmares too. But he struggled more than you thought. He also wasn't in full control of himself or the curse that Hydra put on him - you had your powers and he had that metal arm. 

Bucky found himself chuckling. You seriously thought that he was put together? He was as much of a mess as you were but he was much better at keeping it to himself. "Well, this should be a teaching lesson. That you're far more obnoxious than you need to be." He laughed when you shot him an annoyed look. You wiped the blood from your nose and pressed the ice to it to try and help with swelling. 

He crawled over to you and up between your legs. He kept his hands on either side of your hip to keep him balanced. His lips pressed in against yours, the slightly coppery taste from your own blood still present. It didn't scare him away. Your noses brushed and you winced in pain. He pulled away and apologized before helping you up. 

"What now?" he asked again as he walked you to your room. 

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "You've got to be more flexible and go with the flow." You kissed his cheek once you got to your room. He was sort of hoping to be invited in." Uh-uh. You broke my nose. You don't get anything today." He couldn't say that that wasn't fair. He smiled as you closed the door. 'You don't get anything today.' That meant there was always tomorrow.


	9. Fluffy Kisses and Lullaby Wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky enjoy a quiet little moment together
> 
> A/N: Just a little fluffy chapter :)

Everyone knew who broke your nose. There was only one person who would do something like that to you even if it was on accident. But you played stupid and pleaded the fifth. No one pushed it any further but Steve was certainly the most curious. Why would you cover for Bucky if you hated him and he broke your nose? But since you refused to say anything, he stopped asking. Maybe everyone was wrong and Bucky hadn't done this to you. 

You leaned against the counter of your bathroom that night and gingerly touched the area around your nose. You cocked your head each and every way to see how bent your nose had become. Fortunately, the way that Bucky had crunched your nose seemed to be inwards so if anything your nose was a little flatter but it wasn't crooked. Once it healed, if it truly bothered you, you would beg Steve to connect you to a plastic surgeon. 

The door creaked as Bucky slipped inside and leaned against the bathroom doorway. "It's kind of hot," he said with an almost nervous smile. His stomach still ached with guilt because he had hurt you but he was trying to make light of the situation as much as he could. 

You rolled your eyes and snickered, "You'd say anything to get laid." Your gaze flickered to his reflection and you took him in. He had trimmed his stubble and his hair (though it was still longer than your short hair at this point now). His broad chest rose and fell in steady beats against his red henley. He did look good enough to eat. 

The two of you had made some sort of breakthrough last night but that didn't mean the two of you were suddenly in love or even a couple. At best, you were fuckbuddies that sometimes punched each other. Bucky smirked down at his feet before his eyes followed up the length of your form. They traced your toned legs and well-shaped ass (he definitely lingered on your behind). They followed the curve of your hips and waist before moving up past your neck and meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

"I just wanted to see you," he said simply. Getting some action would be a nice bonus but that wasn't why he had come to see you. 

A content hum vibrated through your throat. "Well, aren't you just the sweetest," you said a little sarcastically and stopped playing with your swollen nose. You spun on your heels and leaned back against the marble counter. "Seriously, what do you want?" 

Bucky furrowed his brows but a disarming smile crossed his lips. He had been serious. He just wanted to see you. Was that so hard to believe? Apparently, for you, it was. He figured that the harder he tried to convince you of that the less you would believe him. So he changed his answer. "I just wanted to see your beautiful nose job," he smiled. You playfully shoved his face as you moved past him and into your bedroom.

"Well, it's about as sore as it looks but I have the good stuff," you laughed and shook your orange prescription bottle. You grabbed the vodka off your table to down one of the pills but Bucky grabbed your wrist. 

He gave a disappointed look that you did not appreciate. "Come on, (Y/N). Enough mixing medication with alcohol," he said with all seriousness. He took the liquor out of your hand and brought you a paper cup filled with sink water. Reluctantly you downed the pill with the tap water. The flavor lingered on your tongue and down your throat. Your nose scrunched as much as it could with the splint on it. "(Y/N), this is serious."

You rolled your eyes and snatched the bottle back out of his hands because he was not confiscating your emotional-support booze. "I'll have you know that this was an issue before my Hydra days so I don't think this qualifies as your problem," you explained to him clearly. You had never really had it easy and it had lead you to make a plethora of bad decisions. 

"I'm not going to let you kill yourself because you're mixing vices. You can have one at time," Bucky explained which only caused you to laugh.

"Okay, Dad." 

Bucky exhaled and snatched the bottle of your hand. It was only half full and he was a super solider with a fast metabolism. So he did what needed to be down. With the flick of his fingers the cap flew across the room. Your eyeline followed the cap as it bounced against the wall and to the floor. By the time your focus returned to the man in front of you, he was nearly finished your booze. Was he serious?! You could easily get more alcohol but that wasn't the point!

You rummaged through your night stand and pulled out a cigarette. It rested in the corner of your mouth and with a pinch of your fingers it lit. You used your forefinger and middle finger to pull it from your lips as you blew a long breath of smoke in his direction. "Look, I mixed vices," you pointed out. Painkillers and cigarettes. That wasn't exactly what he had meant and you knew that. But again, it was the principle of it. 

He stepped in closely and let the bottle clattered to the floor. He used his metallic fingers to extinguish your cigarette after you placed it back between your lips. "You can be a real pain in the ass, you know that?" He pulled it out of your mouth and tossed it aside. You slid your nicotine tongue past his vodka lips as he wrapped his hands around your hips. 

"You're such a charmer," you teased. Your left arm crooked around his neck and your right hand rested on his chest. There was that unmistakable heat between the two of you that always prefaced a wonderfully passionate romp in the hay. But he didn't make that move on you. Instead, he just pulled in you closer and kissed you. 

There was a fire in his movements, in his hands, on his tongue. It wasn't his usual wildfire - hot, dangerous, uncontainable. It was gentle and warm and comforting like a fireplace on a cold night. He sat on the edge of your bed and pulled you in beside him. He laid you back, his hands still on your hips and his lips on yours. Your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, his pulse steady and slow against your knuckles. 

You pulled your head backwards to catch your breath. Unlike him, your heart rammed against your ribs and your chest heaved heavily. You met his eyes and couldn't figure out the look he was giving you because no one had looked at you that way before. Complete, pure admiration. "I really did just want to see you," he said quietly and played with your short hair. He leaned in and pecked at your lips. He had purposefully not pulled you out of your pants so that you'd understand. 

There was a weird sensation in your stomach which made you feel queasy. "You're going to make me barf," you laughed nervously. You had only ever known hook-ups, passionate trysts, and quick affairs. 

"Well, I can go," Bucky said and sat up. But you pulled him back down. 

"Don't," you said quietly. "I want you to stay." Your lips puckered like the words you had spoken were sour. Were you turning into a sap now too? No - you were just realizing for the first time that someone else could make you happy. You had never spent the night with Bucky (excluding your two nights in Italy which really didn't count) even considering the dozen of times you had hooked up. 

A relieved grin grew on his face and he laid back down beside you. His finger traced up your figure and then down your arm. He tangled his right hand with your left. You inched in closer and tangled your right hand with his left. When he gave it no thought it was almost as if he didn't have an metal arm once controlled by one of the most evil forces on earth. But when he did give it thought, he wanted it to be as far away from you as possible. 

His tension was obvious. His muscles stiffened and he refused to close his fingers around yours, afraid that he would crush the bones in your hand. You inched in closer and pulled his left hand up to your lips. You kissed the backside of it before holding it to your heart. "I'm not scared. I've never been scared," you promised with a whisper. He had choked you and punched you and broken your nose with this hand. But you had never been afraid. His fingers nervously closed around yours and you grinned. 

He leaned his forehead in against yours and breathed you in. You pressed your lips to his and picked up where you had left off. You had never taken the time to really appreciate his lips. They were soft, softer than yours. They were thin, the top much thinner than the bottom, but he kissed like someone with larger lips. They were. . . perfect. A puzzle piece against your own lips. 

You pressed your head in against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. You kept his left hand pressed against you so his right arm was the one to curl around you. His chin rested on the top of your head and, while you found that sleep came easier and quicker than it ever had before as you were safe in his embrace, he realized that he wouldn't get a wink of sleep. This was a dream he couldn't risk waking up from. It had been so long since he felt needed liked this. You'd never admit it out loud but you needed him and he needed you too.


	10. (NOT) A Cheap Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes you on your first date 
> 
> A/N: This is the chapter that sends me to hell I think. Steamiest smut I've ever written :) Just wanted to give them a good time before (SPOILER ALERT) shit hits the fan

You pressed your toe to the accelerator and your car popped out of the garage and onto the narrow road that led you out of the Avengers Compound. It had been a hot minute since you had just gone for a drive but your car had purred happily to life once you sat inside her. Your body fitting against the leather seats, your fingers curled around the manual stick shift, the music blaring a little too loudly. But you were in a great mood and didn't care. 

You spun out of the gate and towards town. Normally the windows would be rolled down but you had spent too long curling your short hair to let it be destroyed by the wind. You pulled your car into the parking lot and pulled down your visor to check your makeup one more time. As far as everyone knew you were just going out to get drinks and get laid. And that was true. They just didn't know that you already had a date planned. 

It was harder to peel your fingers from the steering wheel than you thought. It was ridiculous that you were so nervous. You and Bucky had seen each other naked for Christ's sake! Dinner and a couple of drinks was nothing. You leaned your head forward against the leather grip and groaned. You hadn't been on a real date since you were kind of seeing that SHIELD agent a couple years back - and even then you had only been on two short dates. This was different. 

But you had driven all of the way out here and you didn't plan on standing him up. So you moved inside and told the hostess that you were meeting someone. She led you to a table in the back. It was a nice place with orchid displays and little water fountain features. It was nice to know that he didn't consider you to be a cheap first date. It was also a relief you hadn't overdressed. 

Bucky looked nervous, but more importantly, he looked like a new man. You almost didn't recognize the person in front of you. Not only had he trimmed his stubble down to almost nothing, but he had cut his hair quite short. He looked more like his pictures that floated around Captain America museums, documentaries, or textbooks. He wore a sharp-looking suit, polished shoes, and a fine pair of leather gloves. 

He pulled your chair out which was good because looking at him made you weak in the knees. "You look good," you exhaled after realizing you had been holding your breath. 

"I think that's supposed to be my line," Bucky chuckled nervously and took his seat. You couldn't take your eyes off of him which was fine since he was taking you in as well. "You really clean up nice." He noticed that you had expertly used makeup to cover up as much of the bruising around your nose that you could. 

You shed your faux-fur coat and rested your small purse over the corner of your seat. "Is this your first date since. . . well, you know?" you asked him gently. This didn't feel real and maybe it wasn't Maybe you had fallen asleep getting ready for the date and this is the image that your mind had conjured up. But as you picked up the menu and felt the plastic stick underneath your suddenly sweaty fingertips, you knew that this was all quite real. 

Why were you acting so strangely then? You had been on dates. You had spoken to Bucky before. This felt so. . . formal and uncomfortable. What was with the small talk? Oh, he'd never want to see you again after tonight. You lifted the menu so that it covered your blushing face and tried to focus on the dancing letters. 

Bucky scratched the back of his head and glazed over his own menu. "I used to go on lots of dates back in the day, you know," he answered without really answering. You knew this was his first real date since he had been back. He had hooked up with you and then he had hooked up with that stewardess. You wondered if there had been anyone else before that. . . doubtful since had been a brainwashed robot. "I can't imagine how any of Steve's dates went." 

You laughed and lowered your menu in time to see that genuinely happy sparkle in his eye. He went on and on about how dorky Steve used to be back in the day even after he had beefed up. "Poor guy. I don't know if he'll ever get any real action," he closed. The waitress had already come to take your order and you ordered an expensive white wine. 

"Supposedly he already has. Supposedly," You chuckled and met his eyes. This was nice. A little more relaxed and comfortable. No need for useless small talk. Regular talking was more than enough. 

Your finger traced around the rim of your wine glass making a gentle ringing sound that grew higher in pitch the more you drank. You wanted to remember tonight, though, so only drank one glass before switching to water. The two of you picked at the bread on the table. He watched in amusement as you peeled the crust and left it on your plate as you ate the soft insides. 

"Don't," Bucky said quietly. He pressed the toe of his shoe to your leg when you tried to order a salad as your entree. You really didn't need to do that. It was an unspoken rule of first date etiquette. The girl ordered a salad, right?

But with a smile you changed your meal to veal with vegetables. "You're an expensive date," he teased though he didn't mind. He had been saving his stipend the past couple of weeks just to take you out. 

"Well, seeing that I've already put out I figured I'd make it worth my while," you quipped. The two of you laughed easily. Who would have ever guessed that the two of you would ever get along like this? You certainly didn't. 

"Have you ever had osso buco alla Milanese before?" Bucky asked you in Italian which made you raise your eyebrow. His accent was much more convincing than your own which was something you were envious of. 

"No. When I was living in Italy, I didn't have the money for veal. And Hydra certainly didn't rush to feed me high-quality meat," you responded in Italian though your American accent was still present. He found it quite charming. "I miss Italian food. Real Italian food."

"You never told me how you came to live in Italy," he noticed. He knew you had lived there, obviously, and he knew that the Hydra base you had been stationed at was outside of Naples. He knew you had been poor and sick which is why you had joined Hydra in the first place - the promise of food and medicine from a group that you had no idea was so evil. 

Your lips pursed and you sipped your wine slowly and finished the last drop. "My dad owed someone a lot of money. I'm talking about a serious amount of money. And being the idiot that he was thought that we might be able to flee the country and hide. I was almost fifteen at the time and it was right after my birthday that. . . well, his debts caught up to him, let's say. I was abandoned and stuck in a country where I couldn't speak the language with people wanting me to finish paying my father's debts." You picked up your water glass and sipped on that now. 

Bucky reached across the table and curled his fingers around yours. You offered a smile. "Seriously, it's okay. My time in Hydra was far worse than that so if you decide to pity me you should pity me for that," you joked. You meant it. That was in the past now. You did have a whole life ahead of you now. You didn't want or need his pity and he understood that. He liked you because you never seemed to pity him. you empathized but never pitied. 

He squeezed your hand but let you go as the food came to the table. A grin made a semi-permanent home on his face as he watched you dig into the dish you had been dreaming about since you were a teenager. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the flavors melted on your tongue and the spices danced around your mouth. 

The waitress cleared your empty plate and you thanked her with a smile. Bucky ordered a small dessert for the two of you to split. He wanted to pull out all of the stops for you tonight. The two of you chatted comfortably and he stopped mid-sentence when he felt your foot slip up his leg. You had slipped your foot from your heel so you could properly play footsie under the tablecloth. He cleared his throat and continued the conversation. You bat your coy little eyelashes as your heel rested between his legs. He shifted in his seat because he was not about to get a boner in this nice restaurant. His left hand grabbed your foot to keep your toes from moving any closer to him. He gave you a look that made you laugh and slip your foot back into your shoe.

Your eyes slowly moved to the bathroom and then back to him. He followed your gaze and then met your eyes again. He didn't say anything or make any move which caused you to sigh. The two of you used to be exciting and would do it the moment the fiery need arose. Now he was denying you the excitement of being trashy in a public restroom! It was unfair to assume he didn't have his own limits and your own horniness was clouding your own judgement. It was for the best you supposed.

The two of you picked at the chocolate dessert brought out but neither of you had much of an appetite for food at that point. He paid the bill, took your hand, and pulled you out to the parking lot. He held your hips and pressed you up against the side of your car door. His lips traveled down to your neck and he pushed aside the fur so he could leave another hickey. You playfully smacked at his arm. "Are we seventh-graders?" you chided. 

"It's only so everyone knows you're mine," he growled and pecked at your lips. 

"Right. Because I'm not going to cover it with makeup the moment we get home," you added as your hand fumbled to find the handle to the door. You popped it open as his lips covered your skin in butterfly kisses. He pulled away as you climbed in. You wiggled your shoulders suggestively and leaned your seat back. You could be as loud as you wanted in your car in a parking lot far away from the prying ears of the Avengers. 

But Buck didn't get in. He rested his arm against your open door and smiled. "Come on. I have one more thing to show you first," he said. The fire between your legs flickered angrily, desperate for attention. But you took his hand and let him lead you to his car - well, it was one of Tony's cars that he had taken the keys from. You had a nice car but THIS was a nice car. 

You slipped into the passenger seat and your hand crawled over the center console to his lap as he drove you who knows where. He kept his eyes firmly on the road but the sound of his leather gloves tightening around the steering wheel informed you that he was certainly paying attention to your hand. You turned the radio on to a quiet station and fumbled to get his pants unzipped under the seatbelt. 

"(Y/N)," Bucky pleaded and glanced your way only a moment. 

"You're seriously no fun," you pouted and slouched in your seat. You stayed quiet for the rest of the drive and watched out of the side window. What had happened to the fire the two of you shared?! He hadn't touched you sexually in ages and now he wouldn't even let you touch him either! Maybe the spark was gone now that the two of you weren't fighting. That would be a damn shame. 

"Seriously? Why?" You asked as he parked his car outside of a nice hotel. You weren't even an hour away from the compound so why did he get a ro- OH! He turned to you with a knowing smile. 

He pulled a roomkey from his pocket and lead you up to the top floor. He pulled you into the honeymoon suite and your lips were all over his before the door clicked shut. His lips didn't move - you were too impulsive! He grabbed your hips and forced you to turn around and look. He spent the whole day getting the room ready with rose petals and chocolates and wine and soft, sultry music. 

"I thought it was time we did this right," he said and you felt a little bad for almost ruining this magical surprise by giving him a boner way too early on in the night. 

"Lesson learned. I'll be more patient," you promised and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Let me freshen up then." You popped into the bathroom and emerged in the matching set of underwear he had gifted you to replace the set he had destroyed before. Garters connected your panties to your tights. You kept your heels on to really emphasize the curve of your legs and your ass. You leaned against the wall and whistled to grab his attention. 

He had tossed his gloves aside and hung his jacket in the closet. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbow and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down. He was just as much of a snack as you were. Well, maybe not quite as much as you were. His jaw nearly dropped and his bulge grew more noticeable in his pants. 

Quiet jazz filled the room as he took your body in once and then twice and the once more for good measure. You sauntered over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed your peach lips to his. He sat back on the bed, his back against the headboard. You moved onto his lap sitting across him with your legs to his left, your arms wrapping around his neck.

His fingers danced with the buckle on your heels before tossing them aside. His hand moved down your leg, your tights rolling down off your feet with his movement. Your own hand rested inside his shirt against his chest, his heartbeat your favorite song. You laughed gently when you noticed your smeared lipstick around his lips. "It's nothing," you promised and caught your breath before placing your lips back where they belonged. 

His right arm curled around your waist and his colder left fingertips waltzed on the inside of your thighs. It tickled but not in the way that made you laugh, it just ignited the fire in your loins again. The side of his forefinger slipped against your dampening panties and you hummed into his mouth. Your heat pressed into the point between his finger and thumb.

His thumb easily found the sweet spot even over the silky fabric and spun in slow circles. Your head fell back and he sucked on your neck as you enjoyed every millisecond of attention he gave your body. He curled his fingers around the hem of your underwear and slowly pulled them past your ankles. His finger traced your dripping folds and your body shivered in anticipation. "You're a tease," you groaned. This was painful! You had wanted him inside you way back at the restaurant and now he was so close but wouldn't give you that sweet release you craved. 

His finger flicked across your clit with the faintest feather touch. "I swear," you growled. He chuckled against your skin as he applied the faintest bit of pressure which caused you to melt completely in his arms. His thumb slipped back and forth, lubricated by your own embarrassingly wet excitement. His own excitement was pressing up against you through his pants. 

With two fingers, he dipped inside you. With a gasp loud enough that you covered your mouth, your body pressed further in against his hand. His fingers curled inside you and pressed against that perfect spot. A symphony a sighs and moans escaped your body as his fingers slid out and pushed back in. He kept his fingers in your wet warmth and let his thumb resume its beat against your clit. 

The muscles in your legs spasmed in pleasure and your back arched, your chest pressing in against him. "Take me," you asked. No, you begged. "Take me." He smirked. 

He laid your body back on the bed, his fingers resting in your slit which made your body go wild. The teasing was so titillating and exciting and hot but it was painful. Your body screamed for satisfaction. His right hand spread your legs to your sides and then unbuckled his pants. You pulled him out of his shirt. His right hand moved to the clasp of your bra and popped it off so that you were now a painting of nakedness. 

It was clear that teasing you had been hard for him, too. Your moans sent his hormones skyrocketing making him more erect than the Eiffel Tower. He grabbed his length with his right hand and your center dripped and throbbed in excited anticipation. 

But oh he was a bad man. He rubbed the tip of cock up and down your slit. His free hand cupped the side of your face and the metal was cool against your skin. His thumb hooked on your lower lip. Your chest heaved heavily. You took his left hand pressed it to your lips in a gentle kiss before sucking on his fingers. There was that tang of metal mixed with your taste. His breathing hitched excitedly and pushed his tip inside you.

A loud moan erupted from your throat and a smaller one that echoed your own came from his. He pulled out and teased you further. "Please," you pleaded, his forefinger hanging loosely on your lips. Your skin was already blotched red and your hairline was damp with sweat. 

He leaned over you, one hand holding the underneath of your knee and the other keeping him balanced, and pressed inside you. You felt your insides stretch to accommodate his girth. The music played gently in the background but he moved in and out of you with the slow rhythm. He placed wet kisses on your collarbone, shoulders, and neck. Your fingers ran through his short hair. You'd never get over this hair. 

His chest pressed in closer, your hearts falling into echoing beats on either side of your chest. Your heart would beat left and then his would beat against you right. This isn't how you expected this night to go. Sex? Sure. Something so tender? Absolutely not. You had been ready to give him roadhead less than an hour ago. You had been imaging his metal hand around your neck all morning. But this was so much better. 

Each stroke inside your pussy brought you closer to the end. Your cheek pressed against his, impassioned sighs tickling your ear. Your stomach filled and then clenched - the sensation that was always followed by a body-rocking orgasm. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your screams of ecstasy. Your fingernails dug into the skin on his back but that didn't hurt as much as your body temperature rising causing little first-degree burns where your fingertips met his skin. 

"Fuck, (Y/N)," he growled. He pulled out of you and wrapped his large hand around his meat, still slick with your own juices. He was close to finishing, his eyes closing tightly and his breathing quickening. Grunts vibrated past his lips and his hand moved quickly. You wiggled closely and opened your mouth. Clean up was easier than if he finished on your stomach. With one last slide up his shaft, his warm seed covered your face. 

You laughed gently and licked your lips before slipping to the bathroom and using a warm rag to clean your face. He came in behind you and wrapped his arms around you from behind. He kissed your cheek and rested his chin on your shoulder. "You're a dirty slut you know that," he noted. 

If it wasn't so true you might've been offended. "Well, you just know how to make a lady feel special," you teased. He grabbed your chin and turned your face in his direction so he could kiss you. You spun around and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You want to take a shower with me?" you asked in a whisper. 

He wasn't sure if he could pitch a tent again so soon, even with his super soldier genes, but what kind of idiot would say no to that? He turned the water on and prepared himself for scalding hot water. Girls already took warm showers but your body temperature ran higher than normal so you liked your showers extra hot. 

But you didn't want to burn him further so you kept it at a more comfortable temperature for the both of you. Though the water turned to steam as it hit your skin filling the small bathroom with a haze. As much as you were ready to be pounded here in the shower, the casual intimacy was almost better. You faced each other and held eye contact for what could've been twenty minutes. They say that you can fall in love with someone just by maintaining eye contact. Is that what you were doing? Falling in love?

As if. 

You took turns washing each other's hair. It was so tender and affectionate that it almost gave you a stomachache from the sweetness. Your shoulders and head tingled happily as his fingers massaged the soap into your skull and you swore up and down you almost orgasmed again. You saw his body completely relax when it was your turn to wash him. You cleaned his hair and then scrubbed his body. When was the last time someone was so gentle with him? He didn't even know. 

Your finger traced his shoulder where his metal arm met his flesh. There was a nasty scar all of the way around. Water dripped from his nose as he watched you. He would answer whatever you asked but part of him hoped you wouldn't say anything to break this sacred silence. Neither of you had spoken since the water started and it was peaceful. You didn't speak. Your finger traced over every crease in his arm, your head tilting to the side curiously as you took in every detail. You moved down his bicep to his forearm to his hand. You traced each finger slowly. 

He used his right hand to tilt your head up to him and he kissed you gently. His taste so familiar to you now. He tucked back a strand of your wet hair. His hands felt over your slick body, finding their home on the small of your back. The two of you stayed under the water, just kissing and taking each other in in silent admiration until the water felt cold. 

The two of you toweled off, poorly albeit, and your slippery bodies moved into bed. You don't remember how long you kissed, but you know that your lips had grown numb and swollen. His looked puffy too; a sleepy smile crossed your lips. 

He was the first to nod off. His head pivoting on your shoulder before nuzzling in on your chest between your breasts. His arms rested on either side of you, your legs crooked around his own. You ran your fingers through his short, soft hair before your head fell to the side, asleep. 

You woke to Bucky leaving more hickeys on your body. There were small ones on the inside of your arm and your chest. "You are such a child," you yawned, a lazy smile setting on your lips. He leaned up and kissed you good morning. He didn't have to speak for you to know what he was thinking because your thoughts mirrored his own. Last night had been the best night of your lives. 

He sat up and you scooted in behind him, your legs outside of his and your arms around his waist. You kissed his shoulder as your hands moved up and playfully pinched at his nips. He laughed and swatted your hands away. He had the most beautiful laugh and it was a damn shame that you didn't get to enjoy it more often. "I like it when you laugh," you whispered and rested your cheek against his back. He smiled, almost sadly. 

The two of you checked out and he took you back to your car. You sat in the driver's seat with the door open. "You should probably wait to come back so no one sees us coming in together," you said and shook out your hair; it had lost the curl after your shower so you were making do with it now. You reapplied your lipstick to freshen up the look since you knew everyone would be seeing you walk in once you got back. He nodded in agreement. The sneaking around made everything more exciting and daring and special. 

You had been caught in the middle of your walk of shame before. You weren't embarrassed by it anymore - you were a grown woman with needs after all! You stumbled into the kitchen and Sam sarcastically cheered. Your eyes playfully rolled into the back of your head. "Who was the lucky guy? A sixth grader? Damn, look at those hickeys," he laughed. 

You shot him a look to shut up that he carelessly brushed off. "A seventh grader, actually," you corrected him, thinking back to the two times you had to yell at Bucky for leaving marks at all. Steve came walking in to put his breakfast plate in the dishwasher when he spotted your marks. His eyes widened a little but he didn't say anything. "Trust me, Steve, I'm not happy about them either." A smile pushed your cheeks up as you slammed coffee into the machine and brewed a fresh pot. 

You had just poured yourself a mug and taken a seat beside Sam when Tony came in to clear out the rest of your pot. "I wanted a second cup," you grumbled under your breath. Natasha came waltzing in next to dig around the pantry until she settled on a bagel and cream cheese. The last person to come in was Bucky, himself. He had come a little sooner than you would've liked but it should be fine. Supposedly no one knew he was gone.

Well, that wasn't true.

"Where'd you run off to last night?" Sam asked, conviction hidden in his tone. If anyone was more protective of Steve and his interests than you, it was Sam. And he did not need Steve's new/old best friend causing trouble for the poor Cap. Steve gave Sam a look to tell him to lay off. "To finally get a haircut?"

"We came looking for you and you weren't there," Steve clarified. "We were just going to go out for some drinks." He just figured that Bucky was floating around somewhere in the facility and that his elusivity meant he didn't want to be around anyway. He eyed Bucky's fancy get-up. A button-up and slacks? Why was he wearing that?

Natasha moved past Bucky and tapped the collar of his shirt. "He got lucky," she pointed out and her eyes met yours briefly. Of course it was your lipstick and of course it was the color currently on your lips. You put your coffee down and casually covered your mouth, leaning your elbow against the counter. 

"Hard to picture Clockwork Orange here getting any sort of action. Right, Gramps?" Tony clapped Steve on the back. "Seems our two golden-agers have learned how to flirt in the twenty-first century." He drank his own coffee but his gaze fell on the lipstick mark on your coffee cup. Your eyes widened and flicked up to his. He narrowed his eyes a moment before smiling. 

"Say, (Y/N), Barnes' hair looks pretty good doesn't it?" Tony asked and cocked his head to the side. 

Shit. 

You nodded and spoke through sealed fingers. "Better than the mop he had before." Bucky shot you a look and you shrugged. It was true. He was a perfect ten out of ten now that his long hair didn't mask his sharp jawline. 

Steve had had his brief moment of fun. He snatched your mug and dumped the liquid out. You had reached to grab it, making sure you pursed your lips to hide their color, but hadn't grabbed it in time. He held the mug up to his collar. "It's crazy. (Y/N), you just so happen to be wearing the same lipstick that Barnes' mystery woman was wearing. Now what are the odds of that?" 

Everyone's eyes fell on you. Your hand had already moved back to cover your lips. Your eyes were wide and unblinking as your mind raced for any sort of believable explanation. You could say it was a crazy coincidence but no one here was going to buy that. You locked eyes with Bucky and pleaded silently for him to tell you what you should do. But he was letting you decide - the ball was in your court because he was not going to be the one to make any big decisions like coming out about your relationship. The two of you had hardly even had a talk about your relationship and where you stood yet. 

"Um... I'm having a really hard time of coming up with something here," you winced and moved your hand. Everyone's silent gaze moved from you to Bucky. You had said enough.

"You touched (Y/N)?" Sam asked, the anger in his threatening tone was endearing but unnecessary. He and Steve were just like big brothers to you. It was Bucky's turn for his gaze to silently ask you what he should do. This wasn't a fight he was afraid he might lose, but it was one he didn't want to start because it could damage his relationship with Steve and the rest of the team. 

"Buck?" Steve asked. There was much less conviction in his voice. He only wanted answers. 

Your pursed lips popped and that drew everyone's attention back to you. "So, this is kind of awkward. . ." you laughed uncomfortably. "We've kind of been hooking up for awhile now. . . so if everyone could just keep their cool that would be great." But this big scandal was going to fuel the team for weeks and you knew that it would follow you like a cloud the rest of your time as an Avenger. 

"So, wait, are you two just hooking up or are you dating?" Sam asked for clarification. 

You and Bucky exchanged looks. The answer was yes. "Dating," you answered after the longest, most uncomfortable spell of silence. "We're dating." After last night? That wasn't just an expensive hook-up. That was something special and treasured. "And I've had my fill of this today so I think I'm going to just go hide from everyone here for the next week or two."

"Oh come on!" "It's great! Barnes has never been luckier!" "It's not as much fun if we can't tease you to your face!" Everyone chided.

"Bye!" you emphasized and hurried out of the kitchen ready to pull your hair out. 

So much for not getting embarrassed! Bucky followed you. You recognized the weight of his footsteps behind you but mostly you heard the cheering follow him out of the kitchen. "Go get some, slugger!" 

"They're so intolerable," you groaned. Bucky rested his hand on the small of your back as you locked away inside your room. "It's going to take at least a month for them to get over this, you know. You should've seen when Natasha was flirting with Bruce. It was this huge deal and they didn't even hook up." You collapsed back on your bed. You could just lay here to avoiding the teasing that would chase you for the next thirty days or so. 

Bucky sat beside you and took your hand. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Might as well make this official now, right?" he asked you. You promptly sat up.

"Are you serious?"

"As much as I can be." 

You laughed gently and straddled him on his lap. "We're really never going to hear the end of this, now," you smiled. Fooling around was one thing but making it official? Oh boy, Tony and Sam would have a field day. You pecked at his lips. 

"I take that as a yes?" He asked and held your hips. 

"Just shut up and kiss me," you whispered. He smiled and pressed his lips to yours. Bucky Barnes had a girlfriend.


	11. Who will hurt whom first?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's worried about Bucky hurting you but should they be more worried about you hurting him? 
> 
> The team whispers and gossips about your relationship as they watch it grow from the outside. 
> 
> A/N: This is a short little guy to make-up for that giant chapter before :)

"I don't know what I'll do if something happens between them," Steve sighed. He pulled two large bottle of waters from the fridge and slid one over to Wanda who had followed him in. The training this morning had gone really well. Not that you didn't come in hostile towards Bucky, everyone was able to focus and properly work out. 

In fact, you were thriving. Bucky didn't take it easy on you and vice versa. You left each session drenched in sweat, muscles weary and aching, fresh and tender bruises forming. But you felt alive and in shape and at the top of your game. You had grown stronger and more confident. You were in better control of your powers and your temper. The improvement was unbelievable and unmistakable. 

Wanda raised her eyebrow. "They both seem to be doing better than before," she noted. If anything, your relationship with Bucky had been beneficial. 

"I know. But if this blows up . . ." Steve sighed and shook his head. He gulped down his water. "I don't know if I can pick sides." Bucky was his oldest friend but he felt a responsibility to protect and care for you. If the two of you had a falling out, being a mediator might be one of the most stressful things he would have to do. 

Wanda shrugged. Maybe she was just more of an optimist. Or maybe it's because she was in love with. . . well, with whatever Vision was. "I think you're worrying too much. They're a good fight." Steve nodded. She had a point. Worrying about how to handle your fallout was a bridge he would cross if it ever came to that. 

**********

Sam approached Bucky when the Winter Solider was alone. "I'm just being upfront. If you hurt (Y/N), I'm going to kill whatever is left of you. But you know she'll kick your ass until there's nothing left," he threatened Bucky. Your boyfriend hardly addressed his presence. 

"Okay," he said plainly because he didn't find Sam to pose much of a threat. In fact, individually, he didn't think any of the Avengers posed a large threat. He'd only worry if they started to gang up on him. But he had handled them before which sort of inflated his ego. 

Sam narrowed his eyes. "I'm keeping my eyes on you, Barnes." You strolled into the room and kissed Bucky's head. "You need a haircut," he said and walked out of the room.

You brushed through Bucky's hair. It had grown a little shaggy over the past couple weeks. "I like it," you said and pecked his lips. He pulled you in close and deepened the kiss. He knew full well that if anyone was to beat his ass it would be you. 

**********

"Wait. Are Barnes and (Y/L/N) a thing?" Cliff asked after his second day back to the base. He had come in to help with a local job where his skills would be useful. He had been minding his business when he caught a glimpse of the two of you kissing through a crack in a doorway. 

Bruce scrunched his nose. "Wait, they're still dating?" 

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. They were supposed to be working on their mission and, while he didn't mind gossip here and there, this was old news to him. "Yes, they're still dating." Cliff leaned back in his seat. He would've never guessed had he not caught you swapping spit. The last he knew, the two of you still hated each other.

Your relationship with Bucky had grown casual and comfortable over the few weeks you had been dating. He'd put his arm around you when the two of you would sit on the couch and you'd rub his chest. You'd kiss his head or his cheek but you did that for half of the team as well. There was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you that was tangible whenever both of you were in the same room. You tried to keep the majority of your relationship behind sealed doors. It was more special to you that way. It made your relationship just yours. It's not like you had an easy time opening up romantically anyway so it was much easier to keep the intimate details as just that - intimate and close to your chest.

**********

The group noticed how well the two of you did as a team. You would compete against each other as a secret game with rewards that the both of you would enjoy - though one would enjoy more than the other. When Bucky would do better than you, he'd enter you through the back door. When you won, you'd handcuff him to the bed and take away his power and control by riding him from the top. 

That being said, the two of you excelled when separated because there wasn't the distraction of each other's presence. You did so much better with taking orders and controlling yourself and your powers. Your temper was seemingly fully in check so there were no more rogue flames that would ignite around your hands. In fact, you were able to light up more of your power - something that Bucky had helped you unlock. You could light your whole body up in a parade of flames. Tony had to design you an even more fireproof action suit which he took pleasure in doing. 

Steve was a little silently concerned that the two of you did better apart. It was one of the reasons that there was that unspoken rule of not dating a teammate. They were a distraction. But if that minor distraction meant that you'd reach your full potential, he wouldn't make a big deal out of it. 

**********

Natasha stared out one of the wall-to-ceiling windows down at the courtyard. You had put the hood down on your car and taken Bucky for a drive. Steve stepped up beside Nat just in time to see the smile on your face as you pulled into the lot. "She's never been that happy. I don't think Buck has been either," he noticed, a smile appearing on his own face.

Natasha nodded slowly. "I don't know how much longer its going to last," she said flavorlessly. Steve furrowed his brow and gave her a concerned, albeit confused, look that demanded more explanation. "This is her longest relationship. At least from what she's told me anyway." Her hands were crossed behind her back as she watched you park and Bucky pull you out of the car into a kiss. 

Steve watched the kodak moment and shook his head. "They've only been dating for. . . what, two months?" 

Natasha tilted her head ever so slightly to the side. "She's going to leave him," she said more definitively. "She's going to feel trapped. Caged like she was in Hydra. . . like she was in her whole life." Steve watched Natasha and took her in carefully. He wondered if that's how she felt then too. That she would sacrifice her freedom if she found herself in a committed relationship. It was a can of worms he didn't want to open right now and make her uncomfortable. 

"You don't know that," Steve said. "Look at how much they've changed each other." If there wasn't something there worth keeping, then you and Bucky wouldn't still be together right? How long did that honeymoon phase usually last? It didn't matter - just by being together the two of you had finally found happiness and growth and strength. Most importantly, you had security. 

Nat shrugged. "I hope I'm wrong. Twenty bucks says I'm not." She pat Steve's shoulder before leaving him alone at the window. He watched Bucky lift you up, his arms under your rear end, and kiss you. Steve felt like he knew love when he saw it and that looked like love to him.


	12. Beginning of the End (Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have never been in a relationship this serious and intimate. It scares you. Are you strong enough to make it last?

"So how are things going with you and Ivan the Terrible?" Tony asked. You were in the lab with him working on fixing up your fire-proof suit to make it more comfortable without making it lose durability. You leaned back in your seat, your legs pulled up to your chest as you watched him fumble with designs on his computer screen. 

"They're fine," you answered simply. He sat the pen he had been using to dictate movement on the screen and turned his attention to you. He raised his eyebrow. "Seriously. It's fine."

"Now, I may not be an expert," he said though you knew full well his relationships had always been turbulent, "but 'fine' is usually used when things aren't good. Come on, what's the problem? He keep trying to feed your borscht?" 

You laughed and nudged his knee with your foot. "He's not actually Russian," you chuckled. Your foot dangled over the edge of the seat, your toes skimming the tile floor. "I don't know. It's just. . . weird now. I don't know." The dynamic of your relationship had changed drastically - no longer enemies but lovers. The heated passion was replaced with tender familiarity. You weren't sure if you liked that. You had never been in a relationship like this before.

"Well, if you ask me, I think you could do better," Tony said and turned back to his designs. While the team accepted his presence, you had come to realize that you hadn't been the only person that held a grudge against Bucky Barnes. 

"Thanks," you sighed sarcastically. That wasn't exactly the sage advice you had been hoping to hear. 

*****

You laid naked in Buck's arms that night. His metal hand resting against your hip as his right hand traced up and down your arm. He wasn't a fool and could tell something was off. It had been off for a little while now. "You can talk to me," he whispered. He thought you knew that considering how much talking the two of you had done over the past few months. 

He had told you everything. You knew every gritty detail of his time as the Winter Soldier. You knew about his time as a POW during World War II. You knew that he had been a lady's man before the war but the trauma from the past seventy years had made it more difficult to open up. . . until he met you at least. 

Likewise, he knew about your childhood and how you went from being very well off to losing everything and being on the run. He knew about your time on the streets of Italy on the run from men who wanted you to pay off your dad's debt - an amount you could never dream to pay back. He knew about your time with Hydra and all of the experiments they did on you that resulted in your ability to summon fire. He knew about the bad things you did for Hydra because you were afraid they would kill you otherwise. He knew how much you had grown since SHIELD had recruited you. He knew you. Fully. Completely. He knew you. 

And that scared you.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and pushed a smile on your face. "It's just. . . I've never dated someone this long before. . . and I don't know what comes next." His fingers trailed down to your hand and interlocked with your own. His relationships had never been this serious either. 

"I'm not looking for anything," he assured you. "This. . . this is all I need." He didn't want or need anything to change. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel pressured to take the relationship to the next level. What would that even entail? Neither of you had parents that the other once could meet. Would it mean moving in together? You still had opposite rooms though you shared a bed every night - and often the shower in the morning. That was enough for him. 

You managed a more genuine smile and pecked his lips. "That's all I needed to hear," you whispered and settled in against your chest. He felt content in that and closed his eyes. You felt sick to your stomach - how easily you lied to him. Why wasn't that enough to salve your nerves? Why did you feel this way?

Trapped. 

You felt trapped and in a way that you didn't fully comprehend. You had crossed a line that you could never step back over.

*****

Everyone had heard the yelling even through the closed door and down the hall. You had just gotten back from a mission with Bucky, Wanda, Sam, and Steve. It had been successful but Buck had broken a bone in his right arm protecting you. The words were indecipherable but everyone knew why you were screaming. 

Buck slammed the door on his way out and moved his way into the living area where everyone else had gathered. "She's impossible," he growled and sat on the couch in the space between Sam and Steve. He bent the cap off a bottle of beer and took a long swig. 

"She's only scared. I'm sure she doesn't like seeing you hurt," Wanda assured him from her spot on the chaise. 

Bucky shook his head, anger still filled his body. "You'd think. I know that I broke my arm in order to keep her safe because the last thing I could stomach was seeing her hurt," he huffed and puffed. He would be upset but he wouldn't have been mad if that were the case. "She said she would've preferred to get hurt and that I was babying her." Incredulous! He couldn't believe it!

Steve felt this weird sensation stir inside him. A mixture of guilt that came from not warning Bucky that you might start to act like this if you felt caged and fear that he didn't want to state something that might not be fully true. He was not one to gossip and it wasn't his place to get between your relationship. This was exactly what he feared would happen - his friends would fight and break up and he'd be stuck in the middle. 

"She said I don't trust her and that if there's not trust then there's nothing." He stared ahead blankly, a fire in his eyes. After everything, how could you say that? He trusted you more than anyone else in the world. Why else would he share his whole life with you? Unbelievable!

"Wait. Did she break up with you?" Sam asked for clarification. 

Bucky's silence scared everyone for a moment. Who knew what the fallout would be from that. "No. I don't think so anyway." 

The last thing you had said before he stormed out was that you needed space. That didn't mean you were on a break. It just meant you needed a little bit of time to think. He hoped that when he went to see you again that whatever craziness was bouncing around in your head would be long gone. 

Your bedroom door was locked that night. For the first time in months, the two of you slept alone in your own beds. It was cold and it was lonely. 

The "craziness" still danced in your mind. Was it likely that you would've gotten hurt had Bucky not been there? Yes. Would you have died? No. He jeopardized the entire mission by doing what he did. He didn't trust you to protect yourself or to be strong. Out of everyone, he should understand that you could take a blow or two. 

It wasn't just that itchy fear that he didn't trust you. He was willing to die for you. Everyone on the time would die for each other - sure, but that was different. You were family. Bucky? It wasn't familial; it was romantic. Why did that scare you so much? 

Because you felt stuck. How could you feel free to make your own choices and decisions if you had to consider how he would react to the consequences. You lost some of your fire because you tried to be careful so that he wouldn't have to worry about you or get hurt for you like he just had. Your individuality had always been something you used to define yourself and now Bucky had become a part of your image. 

It was just all becoming a little too much for you to handle. You enjoyed his company and you certainly enjoyed his body. But what was that costing you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this makes sense :'( It was really hard for me to articulate exactly what I was going for so if you seriously hate it, just bear with me and I'll churn out a new chapter here soon. Bucky will confront the reader soon and her truest feelings will be revealed and I'll be explain it much better then :)


	13. The storm after the calm (pt 2 of The Beginning of the End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky confronts you about your relationship.

Bucky Barnes sat waiting on the edge of your bed, his leg bouncing anxiously. He wrung his hands nervously and looked up as you walked through the door. "What're you doing?" you asked quietly, more confused than hostile which was different than how you had been treating him all week.

Maybe it was with the help of his super soldier serum but the tech used to help heal Bucky's arm had worked miraculously. He flexed his fingers effortlessly, no longer constrained in a cast. The faint outline of bruising still noticeable where the bone had initially broken. It was nice to see that he had healed so quickly and efficiently. 

"We have to talk," he said. His tone made your stomach shrivel and your mouth dry. This moment was inevitable and you had been bracing for it; you had just assumed that you would be the one to instigate the fight. You pursed your lips and shut the door behind you to obscure the shouting that would likely incur. You leaned against your dresser and met his eyes. 

"You know, I've had a lot of time to think. . ." he began. It was true. You had been avoiding him and he had given you the space that you had asked for. It had been a week and he had not expected to be shunned for this long. "When you said you needed space, I thought you meant for a couple hours to cool off. Maybe for the night. You've barely spoken to me all week." 

"I was upset," you justified. The words sliced through the flesh of your desert mouth. Each syllable scratched your throat which left you uncharacteristically quiet. Bucky's jaw clenched and he nodded slowly. 

"I was going to let you be upset. But then the more I thought about it, the more the pieces began to fall into place. You wanted space - really wanted space. If you wanted to break up with me, you should've said it."

"That's not what I want," your voice small and distant. Wasn't it though? Then you'd be free. Why then were your palms sweaty and your heart racing?

Bucky leaned forward but stayed seat. "Isn't it?" He exhaled slowly and collected his thoughts. "I spent days worried because I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. That I wasn't good enough for you and that I could never be what you needed or what you deserved." It had been a really hard few days as he wrestled with the idea that maybe he could never be loved. 

"Then the thought occurred to me," he continued, "That maybe you were just this scared, broken girl who was just afraid of being cared for and loved. But that's not it and I know that's not it. I was back to thinking there was something wrong with me because you have no issues with letting Steve take care of you. Or Sam. Have you fucked either of them?"

Your jaw dropped and your eyes could've fallen out your head. "Are you fucking kidding me?" you snapped and pushed yourself off of the dresser you had been leaning against. He only pursed his lips. He hadn't thought so but he had wanted to be sure. And he was angry. His words were menacingly quiet but fury was laced in every sentence. "I can't believe you'd ask that." His glare might as well have been the lock to the door and his permission to leave would be the key. You knew full well you were stuck here. 

"I thought I understood you. I thought that maybe we were the same. But you're just a bitch."

Your mouth gaped. That seemed to come out of nowhere! "Excuse me-"

"Shut up!" he yelled and stood up with such force and power that you were forced back against the dresser. "For once, you're going to shut up and listen to me." You could not believe him! The nerve! Hot, angry tears bubbled in your vision but you blinked them away. 

"You're just selfish. It's not that you don't think you can be loved or that you deserve to be happy," he yelled at you, your form shrinking smaller with each syllable he uttered. He would've always been there for you. He would've taught you how to love. He would've died to make you happy. "I know you, (Y/N). That's how I know." This is why you were afraid of letting him know you.

"You think you're the best thing to happen and let me tell you, you're not. You're stubborn and loud. You made me think there was something wrong with me but the thing is you don't want to give up any sort of. . . freedom or whatever you want to call it. . ." 

He shook his head and exhaled slowly to try and calm down though it appeared to have little effect on his temperament. "You wanted sex. You got it. But you got what you really wanted. There's nothing to be jealous of anymore. You're stronger and better than you were a few months ago. I know you don't have nightmares anymore and you know full well I do." You knew where he was going with this and you pleaded with your glossy eyes for him to stop. "You used me to make yourself into the person you wanted to be. And once you realized that you were better than me, I didn't pose a threat anymore."

The sob you had choked down burst through your lips that you quickly covered. "It's not fun for you anymore because there's nothing more I can give you," he yelled, his voice threatening to crack. He didn't like seeing you cry but he was angry and he was hurt. "I gave you everything and all you did was take."

"That's not true," your voice shuddered. "Buck, that's not what it is!" You moved in close to him, the closer you got the more your heart threatened to leave a permanent dent in your chest. 

"Tell me what it is, then."

"I. . . I don't know!" You exclaimed and stopped in front of him. You wanted to touch him but you were afraid you'd shatter into a thousand pieces if you did. 

He cleared his throat and nodded. That answered that then. He was right. You felt trapped in a relationship that couldn't go anywhere else because you were too good for him now. His fears of not being good enough for you were sort of true - but only because you had made them so. Not because they truly were. 

"You have all the space you want," he said with finality and left the room. It was over. You sank to your knees, silently dumbfounded. Tears rolled down your cheeks but steamed away from the heat of your skin before they could reach your chin. 

You were no longer trapped but you didn't feel any better. In fact, that caged feeling was replaced with a bitter self-hatred that filled your mouth with acid. It made sense once he put those confused feelings you had into words. 

Your initial hatred for him had come from the fear that he was better than you. Things kind of got messy there in the middle when the two of started to catch feelings. But then you grew as person. All of those flaws that had you jealous in the first place were corrected. You were stronger, more confident, less temperamental; you no longer had nightmares or guilt for what you did when you were a part of Hydra. It seems like you had only been around him to try and feel better about yourself. 

But if that was the whole truth then why did you hurt so much right now? Surely the guilt of using him wasn't the only thing causing your chest to cave in on itself? 

No, the feelings you had developed for him had been real. And you hadn't appreciated them until now. Now it was too late. You were such an idiot. And he probably felt so self-righteous knowing that your pitiful, self-absorbed self was feeling sorry for yourself. He really did know you and that hurt because it meant he understood better than everyone just how bad of a person you were. 

You crawled into your empty, cold bed. Sobs rocked your chest as you tried to swallow them whole. You were never one to cry before this. There was no rectifying your mistakes. How could you even look him in the eyes after this? The best thing to ever happen to you was gone and it was all your fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aghhh this was sad
> 
> and also hard to write. When I write fight scenes, they're normally just used to build up to something spicy. I normally don't write the reader as someone who is this selfish and flawed either. So I hope the flow is okay ;( :)


	14. How to Make Things Okay After They Were So Unokay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With your relationship with Bucky completely obliterated, you're forced to take a look at your life and decisions. Can you swallow your pride, become a better person, and salvage a friendship out of the rubble?

Awkward was the closest word to describe your current situation though it didn't fully encapsulate just how uncomfortable and embarrassing the whole things was. Everyone knew the gritty details or at least knew some semblance of what had happened. Word traveled fast and you weren't sure if Bucky had gone around telling everyone how bad of a person you were or if they sort of figured it out on their own. At least they spared you the indignity of bringing it up to your face. 

The silence that filled a room when you entered it was heavy as lead but it didn't compare to the weight that would hit your gut when you'd cross paths with the Winter Soldier. He paid you no attention. Falling off a train and losing his arm hurt. The procedure of being brainwashed hurt. Being used by someone he needed and relied on and genuinely cared for was unforgivably painful. He stood beside his statement that you had taken everything you needed from him so why would he give you the time of day? Surely you already knew. 

You spent a lot of time locked away in your room to hide from the whispers and looks that filled the corners of every room. You didn't know which Avenger sided with you and who sided with Bucky and you didn't want to know. You were in the wrong so no one should stick up for you. But at the same time, you were human and if everyone ganged up on you then you weren't sure how well you'd handle that. In reality, the team was trying to stay out of it the best they could. Their whispers were worries and concern that neither of you could ever work together again. That would seriously affect missions and team morale. 

No matter what you did, you didn't think that you could make it up to Bucky. You had tried to give him space and then leave him cookies as a sort of peacemaking tool. But he had only scoffed and said that it was self-serving to make you feel better about yourself. If he forgave you, then he'd only be letting you off the hook and you wouldn't get better. You tossed and turned restlessly each night wondering what you could possibly do to prove that you were better. 

Were you better though? Wanting to be better was the first step, right? Moping in your room like a moody teenager didn't prove that you had made progress in becoming less selfish. You were two months sober - no alcohol, no prescription drugs, no smoking. Your fingertips itched for the paper feeling of a cigarette and your lips felt the phantom sensation of a glass bottle, your tongue dry and missing the sweet sting of vodka. You were trying to be strong. It's what you should be doing right otherwise you were proving that you used Bucky to keep you sober. But that part was true. You hadn't needed other substances when you were with him because his presence alone put you at ease. 

How disappointed would he be if you relapsed? You opened your nightstand drawer and stared at the orange pill bottle. Would he notice? Would he care? Why should it matter? You weren't dating anymore. You weren't even friends. Your fingers wrapped comfortably about the bottle, your thumb tracing the white cap. Why, then, did you feel guilt for even thinking about taking one little blue pill? You sat in silent contemplation before, in your weakness, you took one of the pills. It stuck in your throat so you downed it with water from the sink. 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror. What had become of you? Were you really going to let yourself be this put down over a boy?! That didn't sound like you one bit! You didn't lose that relationship to gain your freedom only to squander it. You slid your closet door open and pulled out a large bottle of vodka out of the recesses. With the flick of your finger the cap spun across the room. The mouth of the bottle was pressed to your lips before the plastic lid clattered to the floor. 

You sashayed over to your dresser and flicked on your speaker before turning on some funky music to dance to. The vibration from the bass shook the walls keeping Bucky awake. Bottle in hand, you danced in your little pajamas just to feel moderately good about something for the first time in weeks. The medicine moved through your system and you felt relaxed. The alcohol was just an added bonus to make you feel good. 

Bucky came banging on your door after trying to sleep through five loud songs. But enough was enough. He was irritated that you wouldn't even open the door. "(Y/N)! Turn it down!" Still nothing. So he pushed his way into your room. 

You were sank down on your knees, your head bobbing side to side, your eyes flickering up into your head. Bucky cursed and pulled the nearly empty liquor bottle out of your hand. He gently tapped your cheek. "You've got to stay awake. What'd you take?"

Your eyebrows furrowed together. That voice sounded so familiar but the figure in front of you was blurry. When did he even get in here? You just remembered your knees getting weak and now you were on the floor. "Um. . . valium?" You weren't quite sure now. Your thoughts were hardly coherent and it was a miracle you were even able to answer. 

"You were drinking on valium?!" Bucky yelled. "Damnit, (Y/N)!" He scooped you up and the last thing you remembered was being carried out of your room, the music trailing down the hall after you, as blackness overcame you. You were out. 

How fortunate you were to only have been out for half a day. The drugs and alcohol had been flushed out of your system and you had recovered. "You're lucky Barnes was there when he was," Natasha said. You were tucked into a bed in the medbay. She was the one on duty to watch you (no one wanted you to wake up alone), her feet propped up on the edge of your cot. 

You exhaled slowly and covered your face with your hand. "Well, this week just keeps getting worse and worse," you groaned. Not only did everyone know that you were a bitch, now they knew you were a junkie. Well, you weren't exactly a junkie but that's what they would think anyway. All of your dirty laundry was getting aired out it seemed. 

"Valium and vodka? You know there's other drugs that mix safely with alcohol right?"

With a sigh, you turned your attention to the red-head. "I'm fully aware." You weren't in the mood to explain yourself. You itched at the IV drip in your hand. Wincing, you pulled it out of your hand - something Natasha scolded you for doing. You weren't a fan of needles. "Did he, um. . ."

"Did Barnes come visit?" Natasha raised her eyebrow. "You weren't out long. It's just been me and Sam. Steve's supposed to come in next to watch you." He had taken the time to go through your room and pull out all of the drugs and booze. It was an invasion of privacy but you nearly put yourself in a coma. He left the cigarettes at least. 

You nodded slowly. It had been silly to expect him to be there when you woke up. At least he had been kind enough to bring you here in the first place. You sat up slowly and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Nat," you sighed. Your head still felt heavy and the room was fuzzy and rotating ever so slowly. 

"Well, you can start by not overdosing," Steve said from the doorway. Your head whipped over to his figure, the action giving you a pounding headache. He moved beside your bed and sighed gently. "You had us worried there." You leaned back against your pillow. You felt so small and ashamed. This was the last thing you wanted - for Steve to look at you like this. 

"It wasn't on purpose," your voice a breathy whisper. Your lip trembled. This was definitely the worst week of your life and that was saying a lot considering how much you had been through before. "I'm sorry, Steve." 

Natasha left the room to give Steve the space to talk to you alone. He sat down beside your bed and leaned in. "It's okay," he assured you. He took your hand and squeezed it, almost too tightly. It had been a stressful few hours where he had been unsure if and when you'd wake up. He wasn't just important to you - you mattered a whole lot to him, too. "(Y/N), you should talk to him. Clear the air. It might be easier to keep sober that way." 

You scoffed. Your hand was comfortably warm in his; you hadn't realized how much you had been craving physical attention until now. "He doesn't want to be anywhere near me," you tried to say with malice but it was impossible to hide the smallness of your voice. It pained you like nothing else that Bucky wanted nothing to do with you.

Steve pursed his lips, a sympathetic smile curling his lips. "I wouldn't be too sure about that," he said knowingly. Had he been talking to Bucky? Stupid question - of course he had. But what did Bucky say?! The last thing you wanted was to get your hopes up. If he wanted to see you then why would he be actively avoiding you? "Just consider it, okay?" You nodded but you weren't sure you had it in you to be let down again.

It turned out that you didn't have much say in the matter. After spending an hour with you, Steve left to get some work done and Bucky appeared in the doorway. You had planning on resting a little more before discharging yourself and going back to your room. Your muscles were rubber and your bones elastic. You offered a weak smile but he remained emotionless. 

"What're you trying to prove? I'm not here to babysit you, (Y/N). We're not dating and it's unfair of you to put this responsibility on me," he said plainly. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. He didn't have any intention of coming in. 

The smile fell from your lips. Had he come here to yell at you? "I don't. . . what?" your voice cracked. 

"I can't be the thing keeping you from self-destructing. You can't do that to me," he reemphasized. He thought that you were being toxic and trying to get him back by hurting yourself. Oh woe is the poor little girl who couldn't take care of herself without him.

Your lip stuck out and trembled. "That's not what happened! You know full well I know what I'm doing. . . and last night was just an accident," you yelled, the words catching in your throat which made them lose force. You hadn't nearly slipped yourself into a coma on purpose. You knew what drugs could be taken with alcohol. Last night was an anomaly. 

"You were sober. What happened then?" 

He was basically accusing you of pulling the 'if you leave me, I'll kill myself' card which is not what you were doing. "I messed up. It's really not your concern, okay?" You needed him to leave before you cried. To think you had been excited to see him when he walked in. He had already torn you down to your core. Was it necessary to tear you apart even more? It felt like there was nothing left of you. 

He clenched his jaw. At least you weren't dead. He didn't want you to die. He wasn't heartless and, at one point, he had cared about you deeply. "Stop pulling this shit, (Y/N)," he closed and left you alone. A deep, dark part of you wished that you were still in a coma. Maybe he would feel bad then. You burst into tears. You were really as bad as he said?!

You pushed yourself out of the medbay. Your muscles felt worn down to the bone but you pressed on. You found Bucky bashing his fists against a punching bag in the gym. You moved inside and caught his attention. "I'm sorry!" He whipped his attention over to you. 

"I messed up, okay? You were right. Is that what you want to hear? You were right and I'm sorry."

"(Y/N)-"

"No!" you interjected. "It's my turn to talk!" Your voice was a medley of shame, sorrow, and anger. His eyes narrowed but he would let you talk - let you dig yourself deeper into the hole. You held onto the wall, suddenly quite dizzy from exertion. 

"Yes, you made me a better person," you began to explain. You weren't here to justify your actions. But he just needed to hear what you had to say before he continued to break you down. "I've never been so confident and in control and safe. I spent my whole life being afraid. . . reckless. . . alone. I thought that the more time I spent with you the more I would lose everything that made up my identity." Your voice was losing steam and power, growing small and quiet. 

"I messed up because I thought that you were changing me into something I'm not. But that's not true. I changed because of you. . . for you. Because you finally gave me the chance to be the best version of myself. . . I didn't want to let you down. And I was scared. Which was wrong. You were the best thing to happen to me and I didn't know it until it was far too late."

The two of you held silent eye contact. He hadn't been expecting to hear that so he didn't know what to say or how to react. He had expected you to defend your actions and to prove his point further that you were out for yourself. He hadn't anticipated that you'd agree and he definitely hadn't prepared for an apology. You never apologized. 

"I'm sorry," you whispered your closing point. You didn't need him to say anything. You had come marching down for an acceptance of your apology but the more you spoke, the more you realized that you didn't deserve it. He had done so much for you - he had done everything - and took him for granted. But you had learned your lesson. 

You scuffled out of your room and to your bedroom. You collapsed on your bed and shut your eyes. You pulled your pillow over your head to muffle your cries. That was one of the hardest things you had ever done - looked in at your own imperfections and apologizing for them instead of justifying them. 

Mostly, you just missed him. How foolish you had been to take him for granted. There was no one else in the world like him. He knew you. Really knew you. Even if anyone else "knew" you and your history they wouldn't know you like he knew you. There'd forever be a hole in your chest in the shape of Bucky Barnes. 

There was a knock on your door and you sat up. You wiped the tears but your eyes were still puffy. You cursed - this is why you didn't cry! You looked so weak and vulnerable! Bucky popped his head in. "Listen . . . I'm sorry about yelling earlier. I was just scared is all." He stood there a moment taking you in. 

"It's okay," you whispered. Hurting yourself to get back at him was something you would do - no, it something you would've done. But that wasn't you anymore and he knew that now. He offered a faint smile and ducked back out of your room. 

Maybe things would be okay after all.


	15. Is It Even Possible to be Happy for One Another?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your relationship with Bucky is far from perfect but to say it wasn't healing would be a lie. You were friends - as much as exes can be friends. Will you be able to handle it when it comes time to move on?

You were friends. Well, you were more than acquaintances. The two of you could tolerate each other's company but you were never left alone in a room. Progress had been made when you apologized but that didn't mean all of the bad had suddenly been erased - all of the fighting and screaming and blame. . . that was permanent. It meant that the tension between you and Bucky was no longer hostile but it was uncomfortable. 

The two of you trained which was something you were thankful for. You learned your best from him since he didn't pull his punches and neither did you. It kept the two of you in shape but, more importantly, it kept the two of you in contact. "How are you?" he would ask. 

"I'm alright. How are you?" you would answer.

"I'm good." It almost felt like you were strangers now. Sometimes you felt like this was worse. But then you'd remember how he looked at you with such malice and regret before and you realized that all of the awkwardness now was worth enduring if it meant he would never look at you that way again. In those moments, you remembered he was a killing machine. You hadn't recognized him and you felt great shame for making him that way. But when you looked into those familiar blue eyes now, you saw the shadow of the man you knew before - the monster hidden away and gone. 

There was a lot that you missed about your relationship with Bucky but you missed being able to talk to him the most. You felt all clogged up. You'd take what you could get, though, so you smiled gently. "Are you coming for drinks tonight?" you asked him and he raised his eyebrow at you. You crossed an X over your heart. "I'm not going to drink. Promise." You were two weeks sober now and it was really difficult but you were trying and everyone was being very supportive. 

"I can't. I have plans," Bucky answered. You had really been looking forward to him joining you tonight. Maybe in a more relaxed environment he would be more receptive to having a real conversation with you again. That was your only goal: to grow a friendship out of the rubble of your failed relationship. The two of you knew each other too well to not be friends. 

"Oh." You cringed, unable to hide your disappointment. "What're you doing? If you don't mind me asking."

The two of you had finished up in the gym and you grabbed your water bottle. "I'm going out," he answered vaguely. Why did that cause your insides to wrap around themselves then? Going out was harmless right? Unless it wasn't. Maybe he just didn't want to come for drinks and he needed an excuse. . . 

"Well. . . if you have time, I think everyone would like it if you stopped by." You were everyone. You used to be everyone. You offered a quick smile before you split ways. Every time you had to walk away you just reminded yourself that it was your doing. Had you not been such an ass then your hand would be in his.

You had to stop moping! That was the past and all you could do now was try to move forward. So you applied some lipstick, sprayed on a fruity perfume, and pinned your growing hair back. It had grown long enough that it tickled your shoulders; you had missed your long hair and couldn't wait for it to be back to its full length. You slipped on some short heels (they were far more comfortable and there wasn't anyone you were trying to impress) and a nice cocktail dress. 

A handful of the Avengers were having drinks to celebrate Natasha's birthday. She didn't want anything extravagant so gathering together as friends was enough for her. The only two Avengers that didn't show were Sam and Bucky. "Where is Sam?" you asked Steve after it was apparent the Falcon wasn't going to be making a fashionably late entrance like you had assumed he might. 

"I think he went out with Bucky," Steve answered. He felt awkward about the whole thing. It was uncomfortable that his two best friends had dated, fought, and now sort of got along. He didn't know where the boundary of your relationship with Bucky laid so he didn't know how much he should share with you. 

You pushed a smile on your face and sipped your ginger ale. You seriously needed a drink but you were trying your best. "It's still so weird to me that the two of them get along now," you chuckled. There was a certain je ne sais quois about their camaraderie. They were almost the perfect embodiment of frenemies. Their near-identical relationship with Steve had brought them closer together. 

The rest of the evening went off with a hitch. Natasha was forced to sit through a relatively horrendous rendition of the Happy Birthday song. Something she got through by doing shots that you could almost taste sliding down your own gullet. It was difficult to be around so much alcohol without drinking so you were the first one to call it quits for the night. 

You came face-to-face with the Winter Soldier as the two of you grasped the handles to your respective rooms. "How was your night?" you asked with a polite grin. 

"It was good. Tried to get Sam laid," he chuckled. How you missed his laugh. You'd do anything to hear his full, roaring laugh again but that was a sound you were sure you'd never hear again. It broke your heart a little bit. "How was your night? Are you. . ."

"I drank almost an entire two-liter of ginger ale but other than that. . . I'm as dry as the Sahara," you assured him. He sighed in relief. The last thing he, or anyone, needed was for you to relapse so soon. The longer you held out, the more faith he had that this would stick and you'd remain sober for good. 

The smell of a flowery perfume hit you like a brick to the face. "Goodnight, (Y/N)," Bucky said and moved into his room before shutting the door. The aroma of flowers slowly dissipating with him. Were you just imaging it or had that been lipstick on his collar? Were you just overreacting because he smelled like a perfume that was absolutely not yours? Think logically! Some women drowned in their choice fragrance and it likely just stuck to his clothes. 

Besides. . . you weren't dating anymore so if he wanted to sleeze it up with some skank then who were you to stop him?

With that, your wonderful evening ended on a sour note. You couldn't even confirm anything but your gut was almost never wrong and your gut was telling you that he was having a much easier time moving on than you were. It hadn't even been that long. Wasn't there some unspoken rule about waiting a nondescript amount of time before finding someone else to fuck? 

Oh God. He was fucking that slut wasn't he?

Fine. Two could play that game - NO! You were trying to be better. As long as he could find happiness, shouldn't you be happy for him too? At the same time, if he's allowed to move on already then certainly you are too. The angel and demon on your shoulder argued back and forth: be happy for him or go fuck some stranger. 

The last thought that lingered through your tired mind as you closed your eyes for sleep was a compromise - be happy for him while you fuck another man. That was acceptable. 

So the next day you put that lipstick back on, sprayed your fruity perfume, and picked out a taller pair of heels. You lingered in front of Buck's door for a moment debating on whether you were going to make a big deal about your night out or not. You weren't doing this to hurt him, though, so you moved on without disturbing him.

Why were you doing this then, if not to hurt him? You were doing it to prove that if he could move on then so could you. Apparently the relationship you had wasn't as meaningful to him as you had assumed it was if he was able to forget it all so easily. You really had to clear your mind, stop being so bitter, and focus on getting some action. 

You came home late and the only reason Bucky knew you were back at all was because he was on his way back to bed after getting a water bottle. Your hair was orderly and your lipstick in tact. He looked you over and took note of the hickey peeking out from the shoulder of your dress and the looseness of the zipper on the back of your dress. "You're up late," you mentioned quietly. 

"You're out late," he quipped. Something stirred inside of him. Were you already moving on so easily? He had been right, then, to recognize that the relationship had meant less to you than it had to him. He reminded himself that you were no longer his responsibility so you could do whatever you wanted. After all, he had technically been the one to officially end the relationship. 

"I didn't drink if that's what you were worried about," you whispered and pushed into your room. There wasn't a lingering smell of cologne, but your own fruity fragrance had faded and he left breathing in the stale hall air wishing to be taken to the tropical paradise of your scent once more. You smiled as the door clicked close. Was that glint in his eye jealousy? 

With a shake of your head you reminded yourself it didn't matter. The two of you were history! It felt good though anyway. 

"Did you want to go out again tonight? Tammy called and said she's bringing Raquel again," Sam asked as he moved into the room. You and Bucky were sat on opposite ends of the couch - the only thing keeping it from being awkward was Wanda who sat in her favorite seat. The three of you had silently been reading or doing things on your phones. Sam winced when he took note of your presence - had you been there the whole time? He could've sworn he didn't see you when he walked in. 

Bucky glanced over at you, nervous to answer. He wasn't ashamed about having a date but he hadn't had the chance to break the news to you yet. It was just awkward. "Uh. . . yeah. That's fine." 

Thank goodness you had learned to control yourself your book would've found an abrupt ending in fire. The letters were characters you no longer recognized and your eyes couldn't focus on the shapes long enough to make out any of the words. You felt Bucky's eyes on you so you glanced up. "What? Are you looking for my permission or something?" you asked with remarkable coolness. 

Your tone put him at ease even if only a little. "No." His mouth opened and shut. "No." He didn't need to explain himself. You had had someone's lips all over you last night anyway so why was he worried about it bothering you? He pulled himself up from the couch and followed Sam out of the room.

Your breath shuddered and you shut your book. You winced your eyes and opened them to find Wanda staring at you. "Are you okay? I'll go out with you if that'll make you feel better," she offered and you grinned. 

"You know, that sounds like a lot of fun." If Bucky could go off and be with that Raquel whore then you could have a girls' night and get more action. Last night you had left the bar with a hickey but that's all that had happened. You had snuck into the bathroom with a particularly handsome gentleman but it just hadn't felt right so you had bailed before it got too serious. What a mistake. He was a real snack and Bucky didn't seem to care.

Great! The two of you could go clubbing - separately mind you - and come home with whatever random date crawled between your legs that night. And you'd be happy for him and he'd be happy for you. 

So why didn't you feel happy for him then? In fact, this was the most jealous you had ever been. Maybe actually getting some good action tonight would help clear your mind. So that's what you and Wanda went off to do - find you a new boytoy.


	16. Less Okay Than You Thought (Pt 1 of The Truth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can try to see other people and you can try to be happy for Bucky but all you'll ever do is miss him.

Bucky watched as you pulled your keys from your purse and left through the garage, you car peeling out of the compound and down the road to the bar. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. Technically, he had been the first to try moving on but it wasn't as simple as that. He pulled out his phone and dialed up the girl that Sam had been hooking him up with recently. Within the next half hour he was done the road meeting her for drinks as well. 

It was unfortunate that the two of you had ended up in the same bar as each other with your prospective dates. 

Bucky did a much better job of keeping his focus on the bimbo that sat on the same side of the booth as him. You were at the bar tap with a glass of seltzer water. You popped a few bar pretzels in your mouth and kept him in your peripheral while pretending to listen to the mindless hunk beside you. 

Bucky still wore gloves when he went out to hide his metal hand. You wondered if his date knew who he really was and that his entire left arm wasn't made from flesh and bone. Would she be scared of him, then? You had never been scared. Your blood boiled at the sight of her hand on his chest. Her other hand was hidden under the table and the thought that her fingers were in his lap made your stomach churn. 

"(Y/N)-" The man beside you saw that you had lost focus on your conversation. 

You shook your head clear and smiled. "Sorry. What were you saying?" You still couldn't focus on his words. Her lips pressed against his cheek. Your fingers curled into a fist and you felt the fledgling of a flame tickle your palm. Shit. "I need a smoke," you interrupted and hurried out the front door. Bucky watched as your date followed you out and came back in just a couple minutes later. 

You leaned against the side of the bar with a cigarette in your shaky hand. It was the first time in months that you hadn't been able to control yourself. And why? Because you weren't okay with Bucky moving on. You tossed the butt to the ground and stomped it out with the toe of your shoe. Bucky peeked out the window in time to see you slip back into your car and head back to the compound. 

"Back so soon?" Wanda asked as you entered through the garage. 

Your jaw was clenched and you weren't really in the mood for talking. "I can't do it, Wanda. I just can't," you said dismissively and hurried to your room. With your pillow pulled over your face, you let out an exasperated scream. You pulled the pillow down to your chest and held it tightly and close like a teddy bear. 

At the end of your relationship with Bucky, when you felt like you were going to lose your identity, one of your concerns was that your days of mingling and one-night stands were over. It was pretty pathetic that that was a main part of your personality. But it wasn't anymore. After having something so meaningful you couldn't fathom hooking up with someone for the sake of hooking up. And even if you could, you still hadn't moved on. How had he moved on so quickly? 

Sure, your relationship hadn't lasted very long but it was as real as the sun and the moon. Looking back now, how had you not realized that you were soulmates? Two pieces fit perfectly together. You guessed he just hadn't seen it that way. Your heart throbbed, your chest a monsoon of aches and pains. There was only one thing that could mask this pain right now and that was alcohol. But since you were sober you were going to have to try chocolate as a substitute.

"I didn't know you baked," Sam said. The oven was preheating and you were pulling containers out of the pantry that you had never touched before. Your phone was turned on to a recipe for simple double-chocolate chip cookies. Somehow you already had flour on your clothes even though you hadn't begun mixing anything yet.

"I just wanted some cookies," you waved him off. He was going to stand there and tease you the whole time and then he'd take half of your cookies. "I wanted cookies. Me. They're not for you!"

Sam held his hands up defensively and laughed. "Damn. Well, I was going to ask politely but never mind." Instead, he pulled a granola bar from the pantry. He watched you struggle much more than you should've to measure each ingredient and then mix them together. "You know there's cookies in the pantry that you won't have to sweat over." 

"I wanted something to do. Sue me."

Sam watched you with a curious and amused smile. "You know, it's not really my place to say. . ." he trailed off. There was only one reason why you were searching for a distraction on the night Bucky was on a date. 

"Then don't," you snapped. You were curious to hear what he had to say but your guard was already up. The last thing you needed was his pity because poor little you wasn't on a date while Bucky was. That was your own decision. Your date was still probably getting hammered at the bar. 

Sam sighed and rested his hand on yours to stop you from mixing. You looked up at him, exasperation written on your face. "I would've never taken him out to hurt you. Barnes. . . he seemed pretty dead set on the fact that the two of you should never even try to get back together considering the fallout from last time." You turned your gaze back to the dough. Your breakup had affected everyone and had made assigning missions more difficult than it should've been - very unprofessional. No one wanted the two of you to go through that pain again and they didn't want to deal with the consequences of it either. 

"I really shouldn't," Sam muttered. Bucky would kill him for spilling his guts to you but Sam also felt like you had the right to know. "(Y/N), he said that every time you walked into the room he wanted to take you back. He was left wondering if breaking up with you was a mistake. And if he was never forced to move on then he wouldn't." 

You clenched your jaw. What were you supposed to say to that? It was a double-blow. Would he have taken you back if Sam hadn't interfered? It didn't matter because Sam was right. Bucky was right. Getting back together would be disastrous. 

"Yeah, no. . . I'm happy for him. Seriously. He deserves something good for once and all we ever did was fight." Your statement one giant exaggeration. You weren't happy for him though you did truly believe that he deserved only the best. At one point that had been you but it wasn't anymore. That was something you were coming to terms with. And you certainly did more than fight. The stretch of time where you had been more than just fuck-buddies had remained relatively free of arguments. But just as it had begun, it had ended in fury and enmity. 

Sam kissed the top of your head and used his forefinger to scoop up a bite of cookie dough that he shoved down his throat before you could yell at him. You chased him out of the kitchen with a laugh and smile that vanished the moment he walked away. You put your cookies on a tray and slid them in the oven. With your back against the opposing cabinet, you sat on the floor and watched the dough slowly sink and then rise as they baked. Your mind was a million miles away. 

"No use in wondering how things might've been," you told yourself with a sigh and pulled the tray out with your bare hands. One of the perks of having the power that you did meant you could eat cookies straight out of the oven without burning yourself. You ate an embarrassing amount of cookies before leaving the rest on a plate for the rest of the team to pick at at their leisure. 

You pulled a chair up to the window in your room and cracked it open. You lit a cigarette and stared down into the courtyard. The moon reflected light down onto the pavement and you saw Bucky pull up to the complex. He parked outside and caught a glimpse of you in the window as he moved inside. He didn't wave or smile or acknowledge you but the eye contact proved he saw you. You shut the window and moved deeper into your room. You thought you knew him but looking at the man below. . . that was a stranger.


	17. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Bucky's happiness is as important to you as you claim then you will finally learn to be happy for him?

You had stopped pretending like you had moved on. It's not that you weren't trying but you weren't in that place yet. Not like Bucky was. He did appear to be happy. It was hard for you to listen when he'd talk about her but she listened to him and she had been really brave when he showed her his arm. Your insides gurgled with a jealousy that you swallowed because it was good to finally see Bucky lightening up again. 

The time you would've spent at the bars picking up horny singles was now spent in the gym. You were in the best shape of your life. Your muscles were strong and defined, your stamina was at its peak, and you had grown more flexible was a treat in and of itself. Self-improvement was your escape and your coping mechanism and it was working. . . as much as it could, anyway. 

Bucky had been going pretty steady with his lady friend for awhile but their interactions were usually limited to a night out on the town or daytime dates. Maybe that's why you were able to learn to handle it better. You'd ignore his disheveled appearance when he'd come back from a date and lie to yourself by saying there was absolutely no way they were hooking up - they were just passionately kissing (something that Sam claimed was the truth but you just didn't buy). Somehow, that didn't make it much better. But he was happy. So you were happy. 

It wasn't until you saw him walking down the hall with a duffel that you realized that you weren't exactly one-hundred-percent okay with his relationship. "You have a mission?" you asked, the hope undeniable in your voice. You walked outside with him so that you could have a smoke. It was the one vice you couldn't give up. At least you were still sober otherwise. 

"No. Raquel and I are going out of town," Bucky answered simply. He had been nervous to talk about her around you at first. He wasn't doing this to hurt you. He was just trying to move on, too. The longer he dated her, and the more okay you seemed to be, the more confident he became that this was the right choice. Part of him wished you date someone else too so that he wouldn't have this lingering sense of guilt. The other part was relieved that you weren't because he knew that the jealousy he would feel would affect his current romantic relationship. 

"That's great," you said as genuinely as you could. The cigarette rested between your lips and you lit it with your fingertip - your favorite party trick. You recited your mantra in your head: if he was happy, then you were happy. "Where you going?" 

The two of you had come quite a ways in the past couple months. Things would always be awkward, there was no doubt about that. But the wounds the two of you had caused were healed and you were considered friends. "Her parents have a place on some lake upstate," he answered and put his luggage in the trunk of one of Tony's cars. Tony hated that Bucky just kept taking whatever car he wanted but Bucky simply did not care. 

"Well, have fun," you said and took a seat on a bench to finish your smoke alone. "Be safe." 

Bucky pulled the cigarette from your lips and crushed the lit end with his fingertips. "You know these are bad for you," he said. He really wished you'd stop smoking. You immediately placed a new one between your lips and he sighed. "Bye, (Y/N)." He slipped into the car and sped away. 

You deserved a reward for keeping it together for the length of that conversation. He was going on a cute little lake vacation with his new girlfriend. With shaky fingers, you lit your cigarette and took a long drawl. Her parents' cabin. Had he met her parents? They hadn't been dating very long. . . The thought of her wrapped up in his arms while they sat in front of fire, dripping wet with lake water. . . you tossed the cigarette aside and gagged. It was enough to make you sick to the stomach. 

"If he's happy, I'm happy," you whispered to yourself and pressed a hand to your queasy stomach. At this point you weren't going to finish your smoke break so you slipped inside. Bruce passed by and mentioned how pale you looked. "I just need to lay down," you assured him that you were fine. 

You curled up into bed and stared at the wall you shared with Bucky. When he came back, would he bring his girlfriend in? Would you have to listen to her pleasured moans and his impassioned sighs? Would you bump into her towel-covered figure the morning after? Would her sickly floral smell stick to his skin? You'd miss his smell, that natural musk - like a warm summer night. 

You tossed and turned but could not find the strength to leave your bed. The sun covered your bed in a light that itched your skin but you were stuck to the sheets unable to close your curtains. The clock flashed half past noon. You pulled the blankets over your head and when you pulled them back down it was nearly four in the afternoon. You hadn't remembered falling asleep. . . in fact, you were pretty sure you hadn't fallen asleep. You had fallen into a lovesick, drunken stupor. 

It was so stupid. The two of you had been broken up for far too long to still be sweating over him like this. By some miracle you were able to force enough energy into your legs to carry you down to the gym. You could spend the weekend punching your ridiculous jealousy away, right? You wrapped your knuckles and pounded on the bag in front of you until your hand bled from the constant friction.

You sat down and unwrapped your knuckles just to wrap them again with a clean bandage. Your phone read quarter til midnight. Had you really been in here for almost eight hours? It was concerning that you were so lost in thoughts that you couldn't keep track of time; you brushed it off. Your muscles trembled from exhaustion but your mind was too busy to let you pause. 

You bounced on your tired toes and lit your whole body up. You swung your leg around and landed a heavy hit on the punching bag. It swung off the hook and to the ground. You cursed knowing you didn't have enough strength left in your body to put it back up tonight. 

"I can get that," a voice said from the doorway startling you. You spun around and shot fire in the direction of the door before sinking to your knees. You had no strength left inside of you - being scared had sucked the last of your energy out of your body. The flames that surrounded you flickered out and the room suddenly felt chilly without them.

Your blurred vision focused in on the form in front of you. Your eyebrows furrowed. You were exhausted and dehydrated to the point you were hallucinating the form of Bucky Barnes. You blinked long and hard to shake the vision. "Buck?" He still stood there, real as the day you met him. Surely you were in some sort of confused daze. He was on a date upstate. 

Bucky walked past you and lifted the punching bag with ease. The chain caught the hook and the bag dangled beside you. He offered you his hand but you didn't take it, your arms putty at your sides. "Aren't you supposed to be up at the lake?" you asked. Maybe you hadn't been in here eight hours. . . maybe it was midnight of the next day and he was back from his trip. 

"I left," he answered simply. This was not helping your confusion. You managed to crawl over to your almost entirely full water bottle. You pulled yourself up onto a bench and drank slowly. He watched you with some concern but the only emotion on your face was confusion.

"She piss you off or something?" you asked and he shook his head. 

"No. We got there and I just. . . I realized something. Well, it was something I knew the whole time but it didn't hit me hard until we got in that cabin," he started to explain.

"You going to keep me waiting?" you asked and a genuine smile pushed his cheeks up. You still hadn't changed. The bits of you that really made you were still ever present. You were insufferably impatient. You were straightforward to the point that some people might consider it rude. You were fearless in a way that presented you with more issues than not. There was no one like you. 

"She wasn't you."

"What?" 

"You heard me. We got there and it just felt wrong. Because she wasn't you." Bucky's hands were in his pockets and he waited to see how you'd react. He had been the one to break it off months ago and he couldn't expect you to come running back into his arms the moment he opened them again.

Except that's exactly what you did. "You know, that's probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me," you whispered. Your fatigued body filled with a lightness that swept you onto your feet and carried you into his arms. He held your face and brought your lips to his. They fit together like lock and key. Your tongue knew his and settled back into place in his mouth. Your fingers tangled in the mess of hair that he had grown back out. His hands moved down your hips and locked your body in place against his own. 

The last thing you wanted was to pull away from his lips but you couldn't breathe. You felt like you needed to pinch yourself awake. Your chest heaved heavily against his own and his eyes locked on your own. He scooped you up like a princess and carried you out of the gym and to your bed. 

After laying you down, he hovered over you and resumed kissing you. Your hands re-familiarized themselves with the shape of his body. He pulled his shirt off with one hand and tossed it aside. Your right hand moved down his left arm and tangled your fingers with his metallic ones before bringing it to your heart. Your body seemed to have forgotten how tired it was, finding the strength to flip him around. He sat against your headboard and you straddled his lap. 

The kiss was only broken once more in order to pull your own clothes off. Your sports bra fell to the ground beside the bed. His hands held your sides, his thumbs faintly brushing your nipples. You kept your lips to his and your fingers pulled his pants off and then your own leaving the two of you in your underwear. His excitement pushed against the elastic of his boxers. 

Your chest heaved heavily and your own panties grew wet. The last time you had had sex had been with him before your breakup. Similarly, that's the last time he had had sex, too. His now ex-girlfriend had given him a handjob here and there but he had a harder time getting it up for her because he could only think about you.

His breath filled your body with a warmth that you didn't know you had been missing until you found it again. You pulled his boxers down just enough that he sprung loose. His veiny cock throbbed against the inside of your thigh and you hummed happily. This was definitely something you had been missing. You pulled your panties to the side. There was no need for foreplay. You held his member in your hand and positioned yourself over him before pushing him inside you. 

You slowly sat further against his lap, letting him enter you completely. Your head fell back and you gasped excitedly. His kisses covered the skin on your neck. His hands grabbed your ass as you rolled your hips against him providing further friction. He moved his own hips in a slow rhythm, pumping his thick staff as deep as he could. "(Y/N)," your name thick as syrup on his lips. 

"Bucky," you echoed back. You held his neck and pressed your temple to his. Your breathing in unison with his own. "James," you breathed into his ear more intimately. His grip on you tightened and a moan grumbled in his throat. Your chest pressed his, your stiff nipples sending shivers down your spine as they rubbed against his smooth, hairless body. 

Your fingers dug into his skin as the orgasmic orchestra reached its final note. "Fuck!" you yelled, your skin bright red from the ecstasy. And only a moment later you felt his seed drip out from inside you. You pinched his jaw because he knew you didn't prefer it when he came inside you. But tonight you only laughed. He pulled his dick out of you and pulled his underwear back up over himself. 

It was nearly two in the morning when you checked the clock. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him slowly, passionately. When you checked the clock again it was after three. Your lips were chapped and numb; his mouth had grown dry from swapping too much spit. So you settled into his arms, his legs on the outside of yours so you were completely in his embrace. 

"I should've never ruined what we had," you said quietly and he hushed you.

"Don't. I could've handled everything differently. We could've just talked," he rebutted. You held both of his hands and his grip tightened. 

You snuggled in closer to his chest. His cheek pressed against your temple whenever he wasn't placing kisses on your head. "Well, it doesn't matter. It's all fixed now," you whispered. Perhaps the two of you should've spoken about it but it went without saying. You were his and he was yours. 

You played with his metal fingers as he placed the millionth kiss against your temple. This is how it was supposed to be. You had been right- you were soulmates. A perfect fit. He knew you fully and completely. And you knew him just the same. You knew him. . . 

"I love you," you said quietly. His lips stayed pressed to your skin. You knew him didn't you? It's why you had felt so safe expressing that feeling that had always been there. That heat that engulfed you every time he was near you? You knew what it was now. It had been there the whole time. Love. You knew him. You knew he must love him too. 

And he did. "I love you, too, (Y/N)." You smiled and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this :) I had a lot of fun writing this. I had a clear vision coming into this and it just kind of took its own direction (which I love. I think it makes storytelling a little more genuine). My "quarantine" is almost over but I'll still try and post lots of lovely Bucky stories :)

**Author's Note:**

> I like more frequent and shorter entries instead of longer entries so :) you'll get lots of updates! 
> 
> Also I'm sorry if it loses steam, I need to stop writing so late at night!


End file.
